A love that consumes
by LustAndLove
Summary: Elena Gilbert loves Stefan Salvatore. No, really, she does! Sure, she's been having more and more late night encounters with his devilish handsome brother Damon and there have been a few kisses and touches, but it's not like they mean anything. Right?
1. Chapter 1

**PERSONAL NOTE:** Hey guys! I'm so glad I'm finally doing this! I've been wanting to write fanfiction about DELENA since, well, forever, and now the time has finally come :p! This is the first time I'm doing anything like this, so it's very possible that I'm doing things wrong. That's where you all come in :p! Please, let me know if my writing sucks (pun intended) and what I could do to improve it. But try to be gentle, because, like I said, it's my first time. Of course, if you like it, I'd love to hear that, too! I can't wait to find out what you guys think! Thanks in advance!

**STORY SET-UP**The story begins with Elena only having met Damon once and getting the full scoop on him from Stefan. I try not to follow the TV show too much, because Klaus and Katherine really only bring drama, and this story is about the DELENA love that's been beneath the surface during all of it.

**DISCLAIMER**: unfortunately, I don't own any of these amazing characters. That honor goes to L.J. Smith.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Elena Gilbert sat quietly on the large couch, her knees propped up against her chest, her eyes filled with unshed tears . There was no light, just darkness, and she liked it that way. She didn't want to wake anyone up.

_Especially not Stefan._

It was a terrible thought, she knew, but she couldn't stop it from surfacing. She didn't want him to see her this way. This weak. She already wasn't a _physical_ match for the creatures she'd just learned existed and Stefan already treated her like a porcelain doll because of it. No need to show him she was emotionally just as weak.

A single tear slithered down her cheek and as she reached up to brush it away, she heard a deep voice rumble, "Elena?"

She stilled. That wasn't Stefan's voice. That was "Damon?"

A lamp was switched on next to her. Surprised, Elena looked up at him and, even in the dim light, she couldn't help but admire the gorgeousness that was Damon Salvatore. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans that fit him _just right_ and a black shirt, although she didn't know why he'd even bothered with the shirt since it hung open, exposing a chest that made Elena's heart skip a beat…or two.

"Liking what you see, Miss Gilbert?"

Elena rolled her eyes and tried to look innocent, but it was too late. A cocky grin was already spreading across his face, his blue eyes sparkling with arrogance.

"Do you want something, Damon?" she asked, looking everywhere but at him.

_Oh_, how he wanted _something_. He'd wanted _something_ since he'd met her and seeing her sit on his couch with nothing but a black tank top and a pair of tight hot pants made him want _something_ so bad he was considering just taking it right there and then. But then her big, brown eyes found his again and instead he heard himself say, "I just came down for a little snack."

He saw her body tense and he knew why she was suddenly on edge. An image flashed in front of his eyes. Elena in his arms. Pressed against him knee to chest. His finger entangled in her hair, holding her close to him. Her hands roaming over his bare back, her nails digging into his skin, her voice softly moaning into his ear to take her deeper, harder and his fangs doing exactly that. He groaned silently, feeling himself go hard.

"Relax, sweetness," he said in a hoarse voice . "Not tonight."

Her angry brown eyes only making the tightness in his pants grow.

"Not ever," she snarled and she did her very best to put all of her conviction into those two words. Damon Salvatore was never going to get her, that much she was sure of. She knew him. Stefan had told her all about his brother. Damon was a killer, a heartless monster, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

_Nice sheep, though._

Damon moved to sit beside her, grabbing her legs and softly placing them on his lap. She tried to pull them back to her chest, but he held them in place without any effort and she knew it was pointless to try again. So she left them there, trying to look annoyed about it.

"So, what are you doing in my humble abode? Did you and Stefan finally do the nasty?" His tone was light, but his mood was anything but. The thought of her and Stefan together made a fire rage within him. A fire that wanted to go upstairs, drag Stefan out of his bed and make him sorry for every laying a hand on the girl.

"You're hurting me," she hissed, tugging on her legs again.

Damon hadn't even noticed his fingers curling around her ankles painfully, possessively. He let go, moving his hands to the nape of her knees.

She tried to ignore the sparks that ran up and down her legs at his touch, but the feel of his fingers softly stroking her sensitive skin proved to be almost too much to bear. Slowly, she felt her head fall backwards in responds to him, her eyes fluttering closed.

_Stop it,_ a voice hissed inside her head. _This is Damon! DAMON!_

"Not that it's any of your business," she mumbled, composing herself. "But no. Stefan and I haven't done _that_. Yet. We were just watching a movie and I fell asleep."

Damon smirked, shaking his head. Just watching a movie. Typically Saint Stefan. How the hell could you sit in a bed with Elena and just _watch a movie_? The things _he_ would do with her in a bed…

"You might like it, you know."

"Sleeping with Stefan?"

"No," he snarled. "Being my snack."

Elena sniffed in a very unladylike way.

"Don't diss it until you've tried it, princess."

Her stomach turned and she tugged her legs back again, this time with so much force Damon was caught off guard and forced to let go.

"What−"

"Don't call me that!" she hissed, her eyes shooting fire.

Damon blinked, confused. "Call you what?"

"Prince−" her voice broke and before she could stop it, tears started to fall from her eyes. "My dad used to call me that."

Damon's chest tightened painfully. He didn't understand this new sensation, but it had to have something to do with the crying girl in front of him. But why? He'd seen countless girls cry and it never did anything to him. But seeing _her_ tears slither down her pink cheeks…

"Okay," he said, making his voice unnaturally soft. "I'm sorry."

She waved a dismissive hand before burying her face in both of them.

He wasn't succeeding in making it stop. He seemed to only make it worse and the pain in his chest became disturbingly agonizing. More so even when he heard himself whisper,

"I'll get Stefan."

"No!"

Damon hadn't expected that and he definitely hadn't expected the little pinch of _relief _that fell over him. He got more time with her. Alone. He was _too_ happy about that. "Are you sure?"

_Please, be sure._

"Yes, I just...yes"

Damon nodded, leaning back against the couch, his eyes piercing hers. Minutes passed with them sitting just like that. Quietly.

"How old are you, Damon?" she broke the silence.

"A hundred and seventy-one."

"You've lost people then, right."

"I've seen people come and go, yes," he said, turning his entire body towards her. "But _lost _people…no."

She frowned and he explained, "I'm not like Stefan, Elena. I don't get attached. I get what I need and I move on. I have no interest in getting to know people."

"So if they die−"

"I don't care."

She nodded. "It's a good way to protect yourself, I guess."

He scowled. "That's not why I don't attach, Elena. I just−"

"Don't care."

He nodded, hating and _loving_ the way her eyes had suddenly softened.

"Stefan told me about your father."

His chest tightened again, this time with an emotion he was all too familiar with. Anger.

"Goodnight, Elena," he snarled, beginning to rise.

"Wait."

Her legs were on his lap again, but it weren't those tanned delicacies that stopped him. It was the desperation in her voice, the deep sadness, that made him plop back down.

"I just need to know."

"Need to know _what_?"

"Does it ever go away?"

"Does _what_ ever go away?"

"The pain."

There was that weird feeling in his chest again. What _was_ that?

"I doesn't stop, Damon," she whimpered. "It's always there and it's killing me. There are days when I feel like I can't breathe and now I'm having these dreams−"

She trailed off, rubbing her eyes, trying to push the tears back. He gave her a moment, gave her time to continue.

"I'm in our car," she said so softly a human probably wouldn't even have heard, but he _did _hear. Every word. "We're driving over Wickery Bridge and I know we're about to crash and then…nothing happens. We get home. My mother and father cook dinner and I watch them, thinking I want a love like that. A love that consumes me. I go to bed and they kiss me goodnight and I feel _so_ safe because I know they'll be right downstairs. I graduate and they're there. Sitting in the front row with Jeremy, smiling up at me so proudly. And then I get married. My father dances with me, holding me so close I can smell−"

The tears came again and before Damon could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, he was scooting closer to her, his thumb wiping away those little drops trailing down.

Elena hadn't expected such a sweet gesture from Damon. Not after the way Stefan had described his older brother. Could he have been wrong?

Damon's thumbs were replaced by his hands. Gently, he cupped her face and she let herself lean into his warm touch. It soothed her. _He _soothed her. What was that about?

"It wasn't like that with my father, Elena. He wasn't the kind to give me goodnight kisses and he was certainly never proud of me."

"I'm sure that's not−"

"The man hated me, Elena."

His hands left her cheeks and that, combined with the torture in Damon's voice, left her feeling numb. She had to do something, anything to make the ache in his face fade.

"I'm sure he didn't hate you."

"Not all fathers are like yours," he simply stated.

"Stefan never said anything about this."

"That's because Stefan was the favorite Salvatore-boy."

_And he still is,_ he thought, bitterly, looking at the girl who was proof enough.

"But you were his son."

"And you think that meant something to Guiseppe Salvatore?" he snorted. "My father was a bastard who had our whole future planned out and, well, let's just say I wasn't good at following orders back then either. When I left the Confederate Army, I was death to him."

"And your mother?"

Damon's eyes softened, but before she could marvel in that rare sight any further, he pushed her legs off and got up. For a second, she was scared he'd had enough, but to her relief, he headed straight for the liquor and poured himself a full glass of a brownish fluid.

"My mother was a different story," he said, his back turned to her. "I never understood what she saw in my father. She was his complete opposite. Kind. Warm. Loving."

"Maybe she saw a side of him he hid from everyone else. A side he hid from himself."

_Like you._

Damon stilled for a second until he rasped, "There are no sides to the Salvatores, what you see is what you get."

"I don't believe that."

He was on her so fast she would've missed it if she'd blinked. His hands were beside her head, pinning her back against the couch, holding her captive. His face was inches from hers, the veins around his eyes throbbing dangerously.

"Listen to me very carefully, little girl," he snarled, an icy line to his words. "I am _not _my brother. Don't be fooled just because we had this little heart to heart. There are no sides here you can discover. No layers you can peel back. I'm a killer. I have no conscience. No morals. I am fucking Damon Salvatore. Don't test me."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elena knew she should be scared, but for some reason she wasn't. For some reason, all she felt was a deep and profound compassion for the man in front of her, a man who was doing his very best to push her away and was only accomplishing the opposite.

Why wasn't she more scared? His fangs were out. His eyes were vamped. Why wasn't her heart speeding up? Why wasn't her body tense, preparing to run? And why did she look at him in that way that made his chest hurt?

"Elena," he breathed, frowning at her. He could hear her heart skip a beat now. And when she let out a ragged breath, her warm smell invaded his senses, drowning him in her heath.

The veins around his eyes were gone now and yet, this was the point when she got scared. The way he looked at her… He was hungry, but not for blood. For her. His eyes dropped to her lips and she felt her tongue slipping out, wetting them _for him_.

_It's Damon!_ Her head screamed again. _Damon!_

It didn't help. Not anymore. The same thoughts that had snapped her out of her lust just a few minutes ago only added to it now. It was Damon…

His face moved closer to hers, the muscles in his arms and neck flexing. Elena swallowed thickly, his nearness making her pulse riot.

"Damon, please, we can't."

But Damon was too far gone to stop now. The second her heart, her body had responded to him he'd lost control. God, he wanted her. He hadn't known just how much until that very moment, until he'd seen her tremble under his gaze.

His hands dropped to her collarbone and to his delight, little murmurs escaped her plump lips. She wanted him, too. That did him in. He moved in to close that final distance between them...and then, everything changed. Suddenly, her warm skin was gone and he was no longer standing on his feet. Instead, he was lying on his back, his brother pushing down on his chest and looking absolutely feral.

"Brother."

A fist slammed into his cheek so hard Damon heard something crack.

"Nice to see you, too."

"Don't you fucking ever touch her again!" Stefan yelled, furious. "I will kill you, do you hear me!"

Another hit. Blood pooling in his mouth.

"Do you hear me, Damon! Elena is off limits!"

He pushed down harder on his chest and Damon could feel a rib crack.

_Enough of this._

With a mere flick of his hand, Stefan was off him, flying across the room. Typical Stefan. Trying to be the knight in shining armor, even though he didn't stand a chance against him. Always fighting a losing battle.

"Stefan!" Elena cried, standing over his unconscious body. "Jesus Christ, Damon!"

Gracefully, Damon got up, popping his jaw back in its right spot without so much as flinching. "He'll be fine in a few minutes."

"That's not the point!" She screamed. "You can't do this to your brother!"

"Obviously, I can and do I need to remind you that he started it."

"He started it? That's your defense? What is this? Kindergarten?"

"I don't need a defense, Elena. If I want to kill him, if I want to kill every living being in this town, there's really not much you or anyone else can do about it."

Her brows drew together disappointed. "You were right. There are no sides to you. You're a monster."

He was behind her before she could move. His hands tightly on her waist, keeping her in place.

"Maybe I _am_ a monster, sweetness," his voice teased in her ear as he pulled her closer. "But tell me, are you mad because I'm exactly what I said I am or are you mad because despite of that, you still want me to take you up to my room and show you exactly what kind of a monster you're dealing with?"

Unwillingly, she leaned back, resting against him, feeling his arousal press against her hip. She bit her cheek to stop the little noises that rose up in her throat, but when his lips briefly grazed her neck, she lost the battle and moaned. It was softly, almost unnoticeable, but she knew his vampire hearing would've picked it up.

And then Stefan opened his eyes and he was gone, leaving her breathless and more than a little confused.

"Elena," Stefan said, jumping up and pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's OK, baby. It's over now."

She snuggled against him, burying her face in his chest, trying to forget that he was so very, very wrong. This wasn't even close to over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

Elena tried to stay calm, but the closer she got to the Mystic Grill, the louder her heart thumbed in her chest. She'd never heard her friend so upset, so scared. Caroline was always composed, always in control, even when she was throwing a hissy fit. Something was seriously wrong.

With trembling fingers, Elena replayed the message again, hoping that, by some miracle, it had changed.

_Elena_,_ it's me. Please, please, pick up your phone! Please! _There was a long pause that broke Elena's heart. Her friend was waiting for her to answer, but she hadn't been there for her. _OK, if you get this, I'm begging you, get to the Grill! I need your help! Hurry!_

Caroline's sobs vanished just as the lit up bar doomed up in front of her. With shrieking tires, she parked her car somewhere she was sure she wasn't allowed to, and ran inside.

"Caroline?"

Elena's scream was drowned out by the wave of loud music that hit her when she entered.

Half of the Grill was turned into a dance floor crowded with people. How was she supposed to find _one _girl in the midst of all that? Her panic growing, she stalked over to the bar and was greeted by a grinning Matt Donovan.

"Hey, El!" he sang, pulling her in.

Elena let him hug her, but not for long. She had other things to do.

"Matt, have you seen Caroline?"

The brown haired boy nodded, pointing at the booth in the furthest corner of the Grill.

_The make out booth,_ Elena thought, a chill running up her spine.

The fact that Caroline, the ever attention seeking drama queen, was hiding from everyone's eyes, meant this was even more serious than she'd thought.

As Elena made her way to the shadowy booth, every single possible scenario of what could have happened to her friend crossed her mind. By the time she reached her destination, Elena was sure there was nothing the blond could throw at her that she wasn't prepared for. She was wrong.

_What the hell?_

There she was. Caroline_. Smiling_ and looking absolutely stunning. Her blond hair was pinned up in a rummaged and yet perfect way, her lips were colored in a subtle pinkish shade and the deep blue dress with a low cut and high split fit her body perfectly.

Elena knew her mouth hung open in a very ungraceful way, but she couldn't help it. Where were the tears? The panic?

Caroline looked up at her now, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, hi Elena!"

"_Hi_?" she hissed. "_Hi_? Are you kidding me?"

"No, why−"

"I thought you were in trouble, Caroline!" she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Why would you think I was in trouble?"

"You didn't exactly sound chipper on the phone!"

Caroline's blue eyes narrowed confused. "Phone?"

"Yeah, phone! You know, the little thing that goes _ring_! You left me a voicemail when I was in the shower! You told me to get here!"

"I did?"

"Oh, come on, don't play dumb! You−" but when she saw Caroline's puzzled look, she trailed off, realizing the blond wasn't that good of an actress. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

When she shook her head, Elena felt her stomach turning. She'd been right from the start. Her friend was in trouble…and something told her she wasn't the only one.

"Caroline," she said, her voice soothing now. "Why are you sitting here? Alone?"

Her decorated lips parted to answer, but for some reason she ended up just opening and closing her mouth like a fish on dry land.

_OK, time to get out of here, Gilbert!_

"Let's go."

Elena tried to grab her arm, but Caroline shrugged away from her touch. "I can't. I have to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because I told her to."

Elena didn't need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. The goose bumps on her arms told her everything she needed to know. How could she not have seen this coming. This had _Damon_ written all over it.

He moved from behind her to Caroline, bending down to look her friend in the eyes and once again, Elena couldn't resist giving him a quick look over. Jeans and a black shirt. Nothing more. On a human man, those clothes might have looked simple, like he wasn't even trying, but on Damon it was a whole different story. A simple black shirt and the man was irresistible. Then again, he would probably look just as irresistible with anything else on.

_Or without anything on._

_Stop it!_

_Come on, just look at him!_

_No, I won't look at…Oh, great, now I'm having mental conversations with myself. The man is literally driving me crazy!_

"Thank you, Caroline," he said, his deep voice snapping Elena out of her thoughts. "You can go back to your party now and remember, you never saw me here, you never saw Elena. You just came to have a nice time."

Gently, he took Caroline's hand in his and pulled her on her stiletto covered feet.

"Bye now, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her hand.

Elena tried to ignore the feeling that little action stirred up inside of her. Why was she suddenly angry at the girl that was walking away from them?

Luckily, there was no time to think about that, because the second his blue eyes focused on her, her ability to form a single coherent thought somehow vanished into thin air.

"Miss Gilbert."

Gracefully, he bend his head down like a real southern gentleman and reached for her hand.

_No!_

Inhaling sharply, she took a step back. She wouldn't let him touch her. Not again. His touch did something to her. Somehow, it made her forget. Forget who he was. Forget who _she_ was. She wouldn't allow it. Especially not after what she'd just witnessed.

"You really are a bastard, Salvatore!" she snarled, glaring at him.

The corners of his lips twitched and, even though she tried to fight it with everything she had, her eyes found those lips and rested on them way too long.

"I guess it's a step up from _monster_."

Elena shook her head, appalled by his complete and utter lack of regret. This was exactly the part of him she should never forget. The part that was without remorse, without compassion. "Goodbye, Damon."

She turned on her heels, fuming, ready to storm out and make her final point when he said something that stopped her in her tracks.

"Have a drink with me."

"What?"

"Have a drink with me."

Slowly, Elena turned, her eyes filled with a thousand questions. The only one to actually make it past her lips was, "You're joking, right?"

Damon was sitting now, leaning back, watching her closely. "I never joke."

"You compelled my friend into getting me here! You messed with her memory right in front of me! Like she's a puppet for you to use whenever you need her and then throw her away!"

"Your point being?"

"My point being, why the _hell _would I have a drink with you after that?"

He tipped his head to the side in a way only Damon Salvatore could and rumbled, "You mean, besides the fact that you _want_ to stay here with me?"

Elena laughed hysterically. How dare he assume that she would _ever _have _anything _to do with him!

In a flash, she saw his face again, inches from hers, a dim light dancing on his cheekbones and she, just sitting there, staring at those lips, waiting, wanting for them to claim her, to invade her.

_Oh, right, _she thought, swallowing hard. _That's why._

She wouldn't let him get that close again. It had been _one _moment of weakness, that's all. She wouldn't be weak again. In an effort to make that very clear to him…and herself…she raised her chin and said in the strongest voice she could master,

"Again, goodbye, Damon."

"Not good enough of a reason?" he said, keeping his eyes glued to hers. "How about this one: You have a lot more friends and they're all very accessible."

Her mouth dropped. "What?"

"Come on, Elena," he said, leaning over the table like a predator that was moving in on his prey. "You and I both know I'm not going to give up so easily. I'll just keep compelling everyone you love until I get you _exactly _where I want you."

His eyes left hers and raked down, over _every single_ part of her. Right there and then, Elena realized Damon didn't need to touch her to make her feel those delectable, forbidden things. All he had to do, was look at her.

She looked even better than he remembered. Then again, maybe he hadn't _wanted _to remember those slim hips that swayed in the most exquisite way whenever she crossed a room or those plumb breast that made his groin ache whenever he thought about them. Not when she'd been avoiding him, a little too successful. It had been two weeks since he'd last drowned in her hazel eyes. She'd kept clear of the Boarding House. She hadn't shown up at any of the places a compelled Bonnie had told him about. And the thing that had pissed him off the most is that she'd never left his brother's side, not until she was safe and sound inside her house. A house he wasn't invited in to. A house where the drapes of her bedroom were always securely closed. He'd checked. Every night.

"Do you really think that, now I know what you're up to, I would fall for any of your tricks again?" she snapped, bringing him back to reality. "How dumb do you think I am?"

Was it his imagination or did he hear a little tremor in her voice?

"You're not dumb," he said matter-of-factly. "You're _human_."

"How do you make being human sound worse than being dumb?"

"Think about it," Damon said like a teacher trying to make his student understand the most basic thing. "When you're dumb, you're dumb. You were probably born that way. It's not your fault. But when you're a normally functioning human, you grow up in a world where you see, almost from the get go, that personal relationships can destroy people. You see it in parents getting divorced, in lovers breaking up, in people dying and leaving others behind to mourn them and yet, you all _willingly_ fall into the same trap. You all fall in love. You all form bonds. Even you. Do you really believe, Elena, that when you get another one of these calls like tonight, you won't respond? That you won't come running to me again? Of course you will. Because there's no way you could ever ignore a cry for help from your friends. Not to mention from your brother. What if it was real? What if I wasn't behind it? You wouldn't take the risk. You love them and they would be your downfall."

Stubbornly, he watched her cross her arms over her chest.

_God, that chest._

Frustrated, he dug his nails into the soft material underneath him, doing his very best to keep himself from grabbing the girl, pushing her down on the table and having his wicked way with her right there, showing everyone she was his. _Only_ his.

_I can't,_ he thought, fighting his nature. _She's not ready. She'll run._

_Since when do you care about that? _the beast inside him snarled_. Just grab her! You know you want to! Pin her down on the floor and bury yourself inside of her!_

_No! I want her to want _me _as desperately as I want _her_! She's not there yet!_

_Imagine it: her smooth legs wrapped around your waist, clasping you to her! Your hips meeting, fighting, dominating! Her hot breath panting in your ear as you make her come over and over again−_

Damon's nails ripped through the seat as he shut out those thoughts, repositioning himself, hiding his _hunger _from her eyes.

"Come on, Elena," he said, his voice hoarse. "Just one drink."

"One drink?" she asked, her resistance crumbling in front of him. "One drink and you'll leave my friends and family alone?"

He nodded slowly, watching her make a decision.

"Fine," she said, sliding down on the seat opposite to him. "But let's make one thing clear: you forced me into this. I don't _want_ to be here. This is _not_ , in any way, shape or form, a date."

"Noted," he rasped, shooting her a cocky smile. "I don't _date_ anyway."

_Off course not,_ Elena thought, watching Damon. _A man like him doesn't need to date. All he needs to do, is walk in a room and simply wait for women to come to him. No wonder he's an arrogant ass._

"Scotch and a white wine spritzer."

Elena hadn't even noticed Matt standing next to Damon with a tray in his hands.

"You already ordered?" Elena barked as Matt put the wineglass in front of her.

"I had a sneaking suspicion you'd stay."

"Did you, now?"

"Mmmmm," he purred in a way that made her toes curl in desire. "Humans aren't as complicated as they think, Elena."

"You think you know everything about us, don't you?"

He ignored her. "Take you for example."

Rolling her eyes, Elena shook her head.

"You're the girl next door," he continued. "The girl who never strays from the path. The girl who never turns in homework too late."

"Wow," Elena mocked, widening her eyes. "Thank you for that deep, psychological analysis, doctor. Off course, every single one of my friends, or even just acquaintances, could have told you that about me."

He tipped his head with a slight smirk, watching her closely. "You hate her."

"Hate who?"

"The girl you pretend to be."

"I'm not _pretending _to be anyone, Damon."

"Yes you are. And deep down you know it. You're just not ready to accept that yet."

She scoffed, straightening her back defiantly. "So, you've got me all figured out, huh."

He shrugged, his smugness starting to get under her skin.

"I might surprise you."

"You won't."

"I might!"

"I doubt it."

"Well," she sang, grabbing his scotch while sliding her girly drink over to him. "We'll just see about that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There had been many defining moments in Damon Salvatore's life. The moment his father gave him his first beating. The moment baby Stefan grabbed his finger. The moment his mother died and, of course, the moment Damon met Katherine Pierce. And then there was this moment. The moment Damon Salvatore fell for Elena Gilbert. He didn't know exactly how it had happened, but somewhere around her second tequila shot and her third smile, every plan Damon had made with this girl had vanished into thin air. Originally, he'd just wanted to seduce her, make her want him desperately, take her like she'd never been taken before, rub it in his brother's face and then leave them both, broken and alone. Now, as he watched her laugh, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he could never do anything like that. Sure, the idea of hitting his brother where it hurt the most still made his insides tingle, but the idea of hurting _her_…

"You know I'm beating you, right?" Elena sang, tapping the six, upside down shot glasses with her index finger.

Damon smiled. A real, warm, sincere smile. Five hours ago, Elena Gilbert had never guessed the words _warm_ or _sincere_ could ever be used when thinking about Damon Salvatore, but she was wrong. It had taken her some effort, but somehow, she'd managed to make him drop his mask and behind it, she'd found something _surprising_, to say the least. Damon Salvatore was funny, smart and all together just much more than meets the eye.

"You're cheating, Gilbert," he said, his voice much lighter than at the beginning of the evening.

"This coming from the vampire who can hear my every heartbeat!" Elena laughed.

"Hey, either you're cheating or you're an amazing liar!"

"I'm not cheating!"

"Amazing liar it is then!"

"You're just a sore loser."

"I haven't lost, yet."

"_Yet _being the operative word."

Damon opened his mouth to throw a responds back at her, but before he had the chance to, Matt showed up with another round of drinks.

"Thanks, Matt," Elena said when the boy placed another scotch in front of her.

He smiled at her in that way Matt did and it made her feel the way it always made her feel. Guilty.

"You can go now," Damon snapped harshly, making Matt turn on his heels so fast it probably made his head spin.

"So, you compelled him, huh," Elena said, watching Damon take a sip of his, most likely very expensive, drink.

Damon's lips pulled up mischievously. "What makes you say that?"

"Matt has known me for all my life which means he knows my age."

"So?"

"So he knows I'm not old enough to be drinking like this."

Damon put down his glass, running his index finger over the edge. "How _are _you drinking like this?"

"What?"

"You're a slim, young girl. After that scotch and those shots you should be under the table right now or at least be slurring your words, but you're not. How?"

Elena bit her lip before grabbing the scotch and taking a gulp without so much as flinching. "You didn't answer my question. Why should I answer yours?"

"I'll answer yours if you answer mine," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She pushed back a laugh. "Does everything have to be a negotiation with you?"

"For now."

Elena's body temperature went up a few degrees at the implication of those words, but she didn't want to get into it. Not now. Not when they were having fun. _Clean_ fun.

"My parents died. I was in the car with them when we crashed and went into the water. I watched my father drown. I was left alone with a brother who cried himself to sleep every night and an aunt who, God bless her, did and still does her very best to raise us, but who wasn't and never will be my mother. I learned to drink. I also learned it's not the best way to deal with things and it doesn't make it easier on the people you love, so I quite. But I still don't get drunk easily."

"Clearly," Damon said in a soft voice, ignoring that familiar pain in his chest.

Elena laughed, shaking her head as if to shake away that memory and when she looked at him, her mood was light again. "Your turn."

"Yes, I compelled him," Damon admitted, running a hand through his raven hair. "And I know you're upset about that, but−"

"I'm not," she said, surprising him for the zillionth time that night.

"What?"

She snickered, seeing his stunned expression. "Do you really think I _just_ figured out you compelled Matt? I've known since the first scotch and believe me, if I'd been upset about it I would've stopped you from ordering us drinks a long time ago."

"Why−"

"Because after tonight, you're done compelling my friends, right?"

"Right. I gave you my word."

"Well," she said, taking another sip from the scotch, "Then I might as well enjoy it while it lasts."

Damon Salvatore's mouth actually dropped. Now, to understand the gravity of this you should know that the last time Damon's mouth dropped was the night Katherine Pierce told him she was a vampire. So, to say the least, it was a long time ago.

"You are," Damon uttered when he could find his voice again. "Without a doubt the most intriguing woman I've ever met. And I've met some intriguing once."

Elena smiled in a way only Elena Gilbert could. And he wasn't the only one who noticed how beautiful she looked.

"You know," he said, his voice tight. "I don't suppose that, since you were OK with me compelling the boy, you would also be OK with me ripping his head off, would you?"

Elena made a little _tssk_ sound. "Don't be silly. Why would you do that?"

"Because he's eye-fucking the hell out of you."

Elena followed his furious gaze and found Matt staring at her in a way that indeed could be described as _intense._

"He's just wondering what I'm doing here so late."

"He's just wondering what you look like naked."

"He doesn't have to _wonder_," Elena mumbled under her breath, forgetting for a crucial split second that a vampire, with vampire hearing, was sitting across from her.

"Excuse me," he hissed, the cold lining that she hadn't heard for hours back in his voice. "You _had sex_ with _that_ guy?"

"That's not really any of your business," Elena snapped back, crossing her arms.

"Tell me anyway!"

"No!"

"Come on," he said in a sing-song voice. "If you tell me, I'll allow you to drink another one of those shots. Then you only have to empty one more during our little game and you win. Think about the price. You could ask me anything and I would _have_ to do it. Tell me you don't want that."

It did sound appealing. Not so much because _he_ would be at _her_ mercy, but because _she_ wouldn't be at _his_.

"Fine," she agreed, picking up the shot glass and emptying it. "He was my boyfriend until sophomore year. And yes, he was my first. Happy now?"

"I don't think _happy_ is the word," Damon hissed.

Was it her imagination or was Damon acting _jealous_? Why would he care about this? And why was she _excited_ that he cared?

"Did you love him?"

Elena checked if Matt was still out of hearing distance. When she was sure he was, she said, "I don't think so."

"Then why were you with him?"

"It's pretty cliché."

Damon leaned back, indicating he wasn't going to let this go, so she continued.

"I was a cheerleader. He was the quarterback. We've know each other since we were little. It felt…comfortable."

Damon smiled, visibly relaxing.

"What?"

"Comfortable?" he repeated, laughter thick in his voice.

"What 's wrong with comfortable?"

"Love should never be comfortable, Elena," Damon said, that teacher-tone in his voice again. "Love should be passionate, fiery, exciting, mind-boggling. Believe me, the second it gets comfortable, it's time to cut your losses and move on."

It was Elena's turn to lean back and study _him_ now. She knew that what she was about to say next might be pushing him too hard, too fast, but she couldn't help herself. Damon Salvatore intrigued her and, damn it, she wanted to know everything about him. The sooner the better.

"You've loved someone."

What she'd expected happened. His smile dropped, his mask fell back into place and his body tensed defensively. However, as fast as all of that had happened, it had un-happened just as fast. He was letting her in, again. And neither of them understood why.

"Once," he said, his voice harsher than before.

"When?"

"When I was still human and for a very long time after that."

Elena didn't know why that information made her heart ache. It must've been a side effect from all the liquor. Yeah, that was it. Nothing else.

"What was her name?"

Damon squirmed, a move that looked very unnatural on him. "Katherine."

Elena knew this was probably where she should drop it. By the way he'd spit out her name, it was pretty clear that they hadn't ended on good terms. Unfortunately, her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

"Katherine," Elena repeated, hating the fact that she liked the name. "She was a vampire, too?"

He hadn't told her. That son of a bitch of a baby brother hadn't told Elena about Katherine. That was unexpected. Holier than holy Saint Stefan had kept important information from his girlfriend. He hadn't told her she had a doppelganger out there. A doppelganger both he and Stefan had fought over a long time ago. Man, he _really_ wanted to be there when this came back to bite him in the ass.

"She was _the_ vampire," Damon said, remembering the Bulgarian beauty. "She turned me…and Stefan."

"Oh, Stefan never told me."

"Well, she's a sore subject."

"How so?"

"Let's just say my brother and I share a taste in women."

"Stefan loved her, too?"

"Yes."

That should've stung a lot more than it actually did.

"He let go of her a long time before I did, though. Hell, I'd probably still be in love with her now if she hadn't−"

He trailed of, staring into space. Again, a good time to drop it. But that pain on his face…

"If she hadn't _what_?"

"If she hadn't turned out to be such a back stabbing, two-faced bitch."

"She hurt you." And the truth in that statement upset her more than finding out this Katherine-person had been with Stefan.

Damon shrugged, emptying his full glass of scotch. "I thought she was trapped somewhere. I spent a hundred and forty-five years trying to get her out and when I finally had the means to, it turned out she was never trapped at all. She'd been free, on the loose for all that time. And she never took the time to find me. Not once in a hundred and forty-five fucking years."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Thanks to her, I learned a very important lesson."

Elena gave him a sad smile, remembering his words from earlier that night. "Love is a trap."

"And it's one I won't fall into again."

"You know, just because Katherine didn't work out, it doesn't mean−"

"Whose turn was it?" he cut her off, straightening his back.

"Damon−"

"Right," he said, his voice demanding. "Mine."

Elena didn't know why it was so important to her to make him understand love wasn't always painful and deceptive, but it was clear she wasn't going to get him to see that tonight and if she pushed the matter, she was sure he would leave. And she didn't want him to leave. Not yet. Because for the first time in a very long time she was actually having real, honest fun. There were no fake smiles, no holding back. With him, in that dark booth, away from her friends' prying eyes, she was just herself, issues and all. So instead of driving him away, Elena smiled, placed her elbows on the table, rested her chin on her hands and sang, "Give me your best shot, Salvatore."

"OK," Damon said, his eyes sparkling again as he mimicked her body language. "I hate thunderstorms, I've never had a threesome, I speak three languages."

Elena tapped her finger against her cheek, squinting at him. "The threesome thing."

"Oh, come on! How the hell did you know that was the truth?"

Elena smiled at his anger, even though an angry Damon would scare the crap out of anyone else.

"Well," Elena explained, gulping down the last of her shots. "The game is to find the truth and if the threesome-thing was a lie you never would've put it in there. It would be _way_ too obvious. Not to mention that if I were a hundred and seventy-one years old, I would be able to speak a lot more than three languages and I suspect you would, too."

"And the thunderstorms?"

"I think you love them. It fits your personality."

"And threesomes don't?"

"True," Elena admitted. "I didn't see that coming. How is that even possible?"

Damon got a gleam in his eye that was becoming all too familiar to her. A gleam that made her regret asking the question. Still, she _was_ curious. Damon Salvatore _oozed_ sex. She would've thought there wasn't anything he hadn't done in the bedroom department.

"I mean, it's not like it would be hard for you to have one," her mouth uttered, somehow unable to keep its lips sealed. "You could've easily compelled two girls into sleeping with you."

Damon looked at her in a way that send electric currents up and down her spine. Suddenly overwhelmed by his closeness, Elena tried to put more distance between them. But Damon wouldn't let her. The second he noticed her intention to pull away, he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him, closer to those lips. _Too_ close. Gawd, how could anyone smell _that _good.

"Sweetness," he said, his hot breath hitting her face. "Do you really think I need to _compel _women into sleeping with me.

_No._

"But, see, the thing is," he roared, his hand slowly running up and down her arm, "That when I'm in bed with a woman, I like to give her _all_ of my attention, make it _all _about her. I make sure she reaches her climax so many times that she's certain one more would kill her…and then I push her over the edge again and again. In short, I make sure that, after one night with me, no other man will _ever_ satisfy her." Elena shivered and she could tell that he noticed. His blue eyes held hers, hungrily, as his hand trailed up her arm all the way to her collarbone. His fingers lingered there, her breath growing shallow under his touch.

"Your heart is racing," he grunted, caressing her neck.

Gaaawd, she hated how her body was proving to be such a traitor. It told him everything he needed to know. How much she _loved_ his fingers on her. How much he turned her on. Even her _human_ senses noticed how goose bumps were spreading all over her body. How her cheeks were flushing. How her panties were moistening. His hand left her neck to gently cup her cheek. Unintentionally, she leaned into his touch, pressing herself as close to him as she could. That pushed Damon over an edge she wasn't sure she'd wanted to push him over. Still, some deep, primal part of her felt victorious when she saw the way his eyes darkened, when she heard the growl that escaped his mouth.

"Elena," he rasped, his thumb tracing the curves of her lips. "I'm taking you home. Now."

It wasn't a question. It was a demand. A fact. A need.

"Damon, I think−"

"Don't," he growled, his thumb pushing her lower lip down. "Don't think."

Elena's eyes fluttered shut, her mind shutting down at his words. Gawd, he felt _so _good−

"Elena!"

That wasn't Damon. Her eyes snapped open and she could tell by Damon's expression he was frustrated by yet another unwelcome visitor. So was she.

"Bonnie," Elena said, her voice raw.

The witch watched her with big eyes and that's when Elena realized Damon was still touching her. Impulsively, she slapped his hand away. He didn't like that. Not one bit.

"You're interrupting," he snarled, his eyes still on Elena's. They weren't warm anymore, though, or sparkling. They were hard. Angry.

"That was the point!" Bonnie snapped, grabbing Elena's arm. "Let's go! Now!"

"Sabrina," Damon roared in a way that even scared Elena. "It would be in your best interest to take your hand of off her."

"Or what?"

He looked up at her now, his eyes shooting fire. "Try me, witch."

"OK, STOP!" Elena screamed, feeling in her bones she had to end this, _now_. "Bonnie," she said softer. "What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want you to get in your car, go home and, I don't know, maybe give Stefan a call?"

Damon shot up, his hands balled up into fists, veins throbbing around his eyes. Panicking, Elena threw herself between the snarling vampire and the raven haired witch and once again, she realized how her life had changed.

"Damon, don't," she said, trying to keep her voice kind. "Please. She's my friend."

He didn't look at her. All of his attention went to the girl behind her back. The girl who was keeping surprisingly calm under the circumstances. Anyone else would've run for the hills by now.

"Damon!" Elena shouted, finally grasping his attention. "Please!"

His red, vamped out eyes looked into hers, confused, until finally they changed back into his normal blue gems.

"That's a good dog," Bonnie sang.

Damon took a threatening step forward.

Gently, Elena placed a hand on his chest, slowly shaking her head.

"Can we go now? I'm bored."

Elena turned, shooting her friend a perplexed look. Did she have a death wish or what?

"OK, let's go," Elena said, pushing her towards the door.

His hand clutched around hers before she could take her first step. She looked back at him, wanting to reassure him she was just going to talk to her and that she'd be back, but when she saw the desperation, the hunger on his face she wasn't sure she _should _come back.

"Elena, don't−"

His words died.

His eyes went as big as saucers.

A sickening feeling crept up Elena's spine.

"Damon?"

All of a sudden, he screamed, falling to his knees, his hands pressed to his temples.

"Damon!" Elena yelled, kneeling down in front of him. "Damon? What's wrong?"

Another scream.

"Tell me what to do!"

His eyes shot to Bonnie. Elena followed his gaze. The witch was just staring at him, but Elena could tell it wasn't a normal stare. She was doing this to him.

Furious, she jumped up, blocking Damon from her sight. "Bonnie, stop! Now!"

The witch's eyes found hers. Damon's screams stopped.

"What the hell was that!" Elena snarled.

Bonnie pushed her aside, leaning down to look, a still recovering, Damon in the eye.

"As you might have noticed, I picked up a few nifty tricks, vampire!" she snarled. "And if you think this hurt, you just try to compel me again. I'll make your head explode. Literally."

Damon's lips pulled back, exposing a pair of white fangs that wanted nothing more than to rip that witch's throat out. But he couldn't. Not without hurting _her_.

"Good," Bonnie said when Damon relaxed. "Then we understand each other. Elena, let's go."

* * *

It was only when the cool night air hit her that Elena could process what had just happened.

"You hurt him," she said, pulling her arm out of Bonnie's grasp.

"Yes."

"How?"

She smiled. "I found a spell in Gran's Grimoire. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Pretty cool? You could've killed him!"

"And?"

Elena pinched her nose, grunting.

"Elena, you seem to forget that that is _Damon Salvatore_ in there."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Really? 'Cause last time I checked, Damon was a murderer, a monster. Do you not recall what Stefan told you about him?"

"He's not−" Elena stopped, not sure where she was going with that sentence.

Bonnie just stared at her, her brown eyes watching her in that way she hated.

"Don't look at me like that, Bonnie."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm finally having that nervous breakdown you've all been expecting."

Bonnie shot her a sympathetic smile and Elena's hand literally itched to slap her.

"Let's just go home and we'll talk about it there."

She reached for her hand, but Elena took a step back, glaring. "No."

"No?"

"No!"

"Why−" Comprehension took over her face. "You want to stay here? With _him_?"

"It's not like _that_!"

"Really? It's not?"

"No!"

"Then why was he all over you when I−"

"He wasn't all over me!"

"Oh, please! It looked like you two were going to go at it right there!"

"I'm dating his brother!"

"Oh, she remembers!"

"Don't talk about me in the third person, Bonnie!"

"She's offended!"

"OK, you know what, if you're going to act like a brat, I'm done with this conversation!"

"I'm only trying to help you! Damon Salvatore is a virus, Elena! Don't let him infect you!"

Elena took a few deep breaths, calming herself. She knew Bonnie was only looking out for her, but she didn't know. She didn't know Damon. She didn't know that with him she felt alive again. She didn't know anything.

"He's just a friend."

"Oh, Elena," Bonnie sighed. "Don't go down this road."

"I love Stefan, Bonnie. I won't forget that."

"Are you sure?"

_No._

"Yes."

"I can't support you in this, Elena."

"Bonnie, please−"

"No. That thing in there compelled me, messed with my mind. Not to mention that it's a mass murderer. I can't just watch you with him."

"Fine," Elena snapped. "Then you either close your eyes or walk away."

Bonnie's eyes narrowed in disbelief and before Elena could apologize or explain, Bonnie turned and did exactly what Elena had told her to do.

As Elena watched her best friend's car disappear in the distance, a sadness fell over her. She didn't want to fight with Bonnie. Especially not now. She needed her best friend to talk to about everything that was going on. About why she liked being with Damon so much. About why she dreamed about Stefan's brother instead of Stefan. About what to do about all these feelings that were hiding beneath the surface, wanting to burst out. Should she let them? She didn't know. All she knew was that, even though there was an entire bar between them, she could still feel Damon inside. Waiting for her. Or did he think she'd left? Without saying goodbye?

"Are you alright?"

Elena jumped, clasping her chest. She hadn't even noticed the young man leaning against the red Porsche beside her, looking just as slick as his car. Too slick for her taste.

"What?"

"Are you alright?" he repeated, tilting his blond head.

"Uhm, yeah. Thanks."

"Are you sure?"

Elena nodded, turning her back on him.

"You know, it's really not safe for a young lady to be in an abandoned parking lot this time of night."

Chills ran up her spine, but not the kind of chills she felt whenever she was around Damon. No, this were the kind of chills that told her to get the hell out of there.

Her heart racing, she focused on the door and started walking. Fast. She could hear him behind her. Following her. Matching her pace.

_Almost there,_ she thought, keeping her eyes glued on the entrance. _Just a few more−_

Another man cut off her path, his broad chest casting a shadow over her. The next thing she knew, an arm curled around her neck and a wet cloth was pressed against her mouth and nose. Whatever the fabric was soaked in, it invaded her senses, burning her nostrils and throat. Her frenzied thoughts became incoherent. Her vision blurred. And the last thing she thought about before everything turned dark was _him_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I don't get it."

"What don't you get, mom?"

Miranda sighed, pinching her forehead. "_Why_ don't you think Matt is the guy for you? You two are so cute together. "

"That's just it! I don't want _cute_! I want−"she trailed off, finding her words.

"What, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," Elena said, throwing her hands in the air. "Passion?"

"Aren't you a little young for _passion_?"

"Maybe. I just know that whenever I'm around Matt, I feel fine."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No…Yes… Maybe. I don't know." Elena shook her head slowly, her eyes dropping to her hands. How was she supposed to explain this to her mother if she didn't understand it herself.

"I think love should make me feel sick, mom," she eventually said, voicing her deepest thoughts.

"Sweetheart−"

"Before you say that's crazy, just think about it! Love is supposed to be this grand, overwhelming emotion that changes your life! It's supposed to make you laugh, cry, act jealous, irrational! It's not like that with Matt! With him, my emotions are never on an overload! With him, I just feel _fine_. Nothing more. There are no butterflies when I see him, no bells ringing. That's not normal, is it?"

Miranda smiled, looking at the girl in front of her with so much recognition. "You really are my daughter."

"Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I _should_ give Matt another−"

"No."

"But−"

"No, Elena. If he's not right for you, you should cut him loose. Let him find his soul mate and be brave enough to find yours."

"Brave? What does being brave have to do with it."

Her mother laughed. Sometimes she forgot how young her daughter was.

"Sweetheart," she said in that warm, motherly voice. "Believe me, when _he _comes along, your first instinct will be to get as far away from him as you can."

"Why would I want that if I love him?"

"Because he won't be what you expect him to be. He might not be popular or rich or drive that cool car or wear the right clothes or fit in with your friends. But he'll be the only one you'll ever love again and that will scare you to your very core."

"I don't think it will be like that." Elena said naively.

"We'll see."

"OK," Elena snickered, putting on her peppy face. "Enough love talk. Jeremy's at a friend's house, dad's working late. What should we do on our men-free night?"

Her mother smiled weakly. "I think you should wake up."

"What?"

"Wake up, sweetheart," she said, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "And be brave."

* * *

Before Elena had the chance to open her eyes, her mind was already overrunning with information. She knew she was tied up. She could feel the ropes cutting into her wrists. Her mouth was gagged. She could tell by the pain in the corner of her lips. She knew she was lying down on something hard. Something that was moving. Fast. And she knew that whatever drug they'd used to sedate her wasn't completely out of her system yet. She still felt groggy. Weak. Even opening her eyes was difficult and it didn't even do her any good. Wherever she was, it was pitch black. She couldn't see a thing. Her ears, however, told her a lot more. She could hear an engine and loud music coming from close by.

_A car. I'm in the trunk of a car. _His _car._

She could see his face as clear as day. Brown eyes. Blond hair. Clean shaved. Razor-sharp cheekbones. He'd taken her.

Panic crawled to the surface, but Elena knew she couldn't break down. Not now. She had to think, had to find a way out. But how? She didn't even know how long ago he'd taken her.

That was the first thing she had to find out, she told herself. How long had she been gone? Was someone already missing her? Looking for her? Did she just have to try to stay alive until then? Or had they _just _kidnapped her? Was there no help on the way? Was she on her own?

The second thing she had to figure out was _where_ she was. Was she still in the town she loved and, more importantly, _knew_? In other words, if she somehow managed to get away and run, would she know _where _to run to?

Elena's body shifted abruptly. The car had stopped.

_Don't panic,_ she kept thinking, bracing herself. _Look. Think. Don't panic._

The next thing she knew, she was pressing her eyes shut against a sudden burst of light. It took her a few blinks before her eyes could adjust. Before she could see them looking down at her. The Porsche-guy. And some other man. A big man. Black hair. Brown eyes. Tattoo of a Chinese symbol in his neck. The man who'd stopped her from getting back inside the Grill. From getting back to−

_DAMON!_ Her mind screamed, a little flicker of hoping bursting to life. If she could just let Damon know−

_How?_ The realistic voice inside sneered. _You might be miles outside of Mystic Falls. He thinks you left with Bonnie and, judging from the weakness of the light outside, I'd say it's still very early. Too early for anyone to be panicking about your disappearance. There's no reason for him to be looking for you._

"How is she awake?" Elena heard the big guy ask, his voice matching his size. "You didn't use enough chloroform, did you? Again!"

"What can I say?" The blond guy said, smiling cruelly. "I like them better awake."

The grizzly bear grabbed her shoulder, hauling her out of the trunk. He dropped her and without her hands to break her fall, she hit the ground_ hard_.

She tried to hide the fear in her eyes as she rolled onto her back and glared at them. In truth, that move wasn't so much about showing them she wasn't scared as it was about getting a better look at her surroundings. Her _familiar_ surroundings. Her heart jumped victoriously.

She was in the woods! The Mystic Falls woods! The woods _he_ lived at the edge of!

However, as soon as the blond dragged her to her feet, she realized she was deeper in those woods than she'd thought. Too deep. The Salvatore Boarding House was too far away. He would never hear her if she screamed.

_Don't think about that, yet! You're still in Mystic Falls. That's a good thing. And Damon's strong. There a chance he might hear you._

That realistic voice snorted. _How are you going to scream with that gag, genius?_

There was a hurtful shove in her back and then she was inside a house. A filthy one. The wooden floors were broken, the walls looked like they were going to cave in at any second and there was forest creeping in through the cracks.

"Home sweet home."

Elena glared at the monster that was now standing in front of her, his arms spread in a welcoming gesture.

"Christian," the man behind her boomed. "Get on with it, man. We don't have all day. They'll be missing her soon and I don't want to rush when it's my turn."

That's when Elena couldn't keep the hysteria out any longer. She was only human after all. In a desperate move, she turned sideways and tried to make a run for it, but the man behind her grabbed the ropes by her hands and pulled her back, laughing at her weak attempt.

"Ooh," Christian sang, faking a pout. "You disappoint me. I really thought you were going to take it like a big girl. Ah, well−"

In an instant, his face changed. The playful look was gone and replaced by something much more terrifying. Resolve. Cruelty. Anger. Hate. Disgust. It was a mixture she'd never seen on anyone's face and she prayed to God it wouldn't be the last thing she saw on this earth.

Another shove in her back. She fell. Something on the floor cut her cheek. Blood dripped from the wound.

_Oh, God,_ she thought, a realization hitting her as she watched red drops fall to the floor. _I'm going to die here._

She was pulled up by her hands, the ropes burning her skin again. She couldn't see, but she knew her wrists were bleeding to. She could feel the warm fluid on her fingers.

_You're never going to see him again._

He towed her to another room. More tears. Not for the pain. Not even for her faith. For _him_. The things she never got to say to him. The kiss they would never share. The future they'd never have.

She was on a matrass now, watching him slam a door shut. She saw the ruthlessness in his eyes and for some reason that kicked her Gilbert spirit into action. There was no way she was just going to lay down and take it. She was Elena Gilbert, damn it!

"I watched you, you know," Christian said, stalking over to her, his head tilted to the side. "Around town. I think it was your ass that called out to me, that made me choose you. God, I can't wait to get my hands on those perfect, tight cheeks."

Elena felt like throwing up as she kicked herself as far away from him as she possibly could. When she hit the iron bedpost, she pulled her legs to her chest, glaring.

"Don't be like that," he hissed, undoing his belt. "You'll like it. I promise."

"Screw you!" Elena screamed. However, thanks to the cloth in her mouth, all he heard was, "Ssssscww Ou!"

He kneeled down on the bed, grabbing her ankles and pulling her on her back, closer to him.

_Do something!_ Her mind screamed. But he was strong. Stronger than she'd expected. She tried to kick herself away from him again, but he kept her in place without even breaking a sweat.

_Please, God, please! Don't let this happen!_

She screamed, cursing him out, begging him to let her go. He just laughed and before she knew what was happening, he had her jeans removed.

_No! Stop! Please!_

"You know, I do love your lips," he said, his foul breath invading her nostrils.

And then he did something she'll be forever grateful for. He ungagged her. It took her about two seconds to process what had just happened. Two seconds before she realized this was her chance!

With everything she had left, Elena put her foot to his chest and kicked. He fell backwards, off the bed. She didn't hesitate. Faster than she knew she could move, she scrambled up and ran to the small, dirty window by the bed. It was too small to squirm though, but it didn't need to be big. Not for what she was planning. Fueled by adrenaline, she broke the glass with her elbow, ignoring the searing pain, and screamed one word from the top of her lunges over and over again,

"**DAMON!**"

* * *

_Forget about her._

Damon stood in front of his bedroom window, pulling a fresh shirt over his head. His old shirt was tossed on the floor downstairs. He couldn't stand it on him. It smelled like her.

God, he wanted her _so_ bad. He'd never wanted anyone like he wanted Elena. Not even Katherine. And for an amazing moment, he'd thought she wanted him, too.

And then she'd left.

With that witch.

Without a word.

Frustrated, he pinched his nose. He wasn't supposed to feel this mad about her refusal. He wasn't supposed to feel _anything_. He'd given up _feeling_ a long time ago. But she had this effect on him. She made him forget. Forget who he was. And remember who he used to be. Before Katherine. Before he flipped the switch. When he still would've been able to love her, with all of his heart. Like Stefan got to.

"_Damon!"_

Damon smiled weakly, remembering the way she'd whispered his name.

"_Damon!" _

Wait…

"_Damon!"_

He closed his eyes, sharpening his senses.

"_**Damon, please!**"_

A window shattered. A shadow moved through the woods. And before the sun would be high in the sky, someone was going to die.

* * *

"This is getting pathetic," Christian sang, watching Elena with his arms crossed over his chest. "There's no one around for miles, sweetheart."

"DAMON!"

"Stop."

"DAMON!"

"I said, STOP!"

"DAMON, PLEASE!"

"ENOUGH!"

"DAM−"

He was on her so fast she had no chance to get away. Her back hit the wall, hard. His arm pressed down on her neck, choking her, hurting her.

"Why do you bitches never listen?" he yelled, spit hitting her face.

She clawed at his arm, trying to get some oxygen back into her system. He didn't budge. Her legs kicked without hitting anything. Black spots popped up in front of her eyes. The angry man started to fade.

And then she was on the floor, air rushing back into her lunges, her throat aching.

"Damon," she rasped, a tear falling down.

"Seriously?" Christian grunted, towering over her. "He's not coming, you stupid bitch!"

Elena snickered hysterically, more tears rolling down.

"What?" he snarled.

"You're going to die."

"No, sweetheart. You got that backwards. _You're_ going to die."

"Probably. But he's going to kill you before my body's cold."

"Who is? This Damon-guy?"

She nodded slowly, remembering his gorgeous blue eyes that took her breath away. She was never going to stare into them again.

"I'm not afraid of him."

"You should be."

His foot shot out, hitting her in her stomach. She gasped, the taste of blood prominent on her tongue. Before she could recover, his hand entangled in her hair and pulled, forcing her back on her feet.

"Elena," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "The only one who should be scared, is you."

Another tug at her hair and she was back on the matrass with him on top of her. His lips were on her neck, his hands were on her hips, he was pushing himself between her legs, his pants cutting into her inner thighs. She tried to get away, but he was heavy. Too heavy.

"Come on, Elena," he growled in her ear. "Beg for me."

"No!"

He grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes on his. "I'm going to make you beg!"

She felt his hand crawl under her shirt, finding her bra.

"Beg!"

"No!"

His nails scratched a path down her belly. She pushed back a scream, but he could see the pain in her eyes. And he liked it.

"Beg, Elena! Be−"

A gunshot.

A scream. But not hers. Not this time.

A loud thumb.

And then, silence.

"What the hell was that?" Christian snarled, his weight lifting from her chest. "Max?"

He listened, waiting for a responds from his companion.

"Max!" he yelled again.

Elena tried to squirm away from him, but his grip on her hips hadn't weakened.

"Max, you −"

The door flew from its hinges, dust and gravel floating through the air.

Elena's heart slammed against her chest.

Her head was pounding.

The butterflies in the pit of her belly raged uncontrollably.

He was here.

A feeling of safety fell over Elena and the irony of that didn't escape her. How could she possibly feel safer than she ever felt with a rapist and murderer kneeling between her legs and a livid vampire standing in the doorway, his eyes black as night, his lips pulled back in a deadly sneer.

Tears fell from her eyes as she gazed at the man she'd feared she'd never see again.

"Who the hell are you?" Christian snarled, his grip on her hips tightening painfully.

"Damon." Elena answered for him, making his eyes widen in horror. "He's Damon."

When Damon Salvatore had found out Katherine Pierce had betrayed him, he'd been seething. He'd killed the coven who'd helped him open the tomb, the vampires he'd found inside, the villagers who'd crossed his path on his way out of town and every spark of humanity he still had left inside of him. The anger had consumed him, had destroyed everything he was and had left nothing but a black, gaping hole.

And yet, that fury had been _nothing_ compared to what he felt now, standing in that doorway, taking in the scene in front of him.

Elena lying on her back.

_Him_ forcing her knees apart.

Blood staining the cheeks he'd caressed only a few hours before.

Her legs and arms bruised, cut, abused.

Her eyes, her beautiful hazel eyes, filled with tears.

And that was only what he could _see_. He could smell a lot more blood.

And it was all _his_ fault.

He focused on the man now. The one with his fingers digging into her hips.

He'd hurt her.

He'd hurt _his_ Elena.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Damon", he heard her say. Her voice was _so_ sweet, _so_ strong. Pride seeped through the blinding hate for a split second.

"He's Damon," she repeated and the way she'd said it would've made him pull her in his arms and sooth her aching body with sweet kisses…if he didn't have other things to do first. Like ripping _his _throat out.

And then, once again, Damon was reminded of the stupidity of humans.

"Come any closer and I'll kill her!"

Damon would've laughed at that if he hadn't grabbed Elena's neck when he'd said it. If she hadn't whimpered.

"Wrong move," Damon growled, his vision turning red.

Everything happened faster than Elena's mind could process. One moment, Damon was still standing in the doorframe, his body tense, watching her with an expression that chilled and warmed her entire being at the same time. The next, he was a shadow and Christian's touch was gone, peeled from her skin.

She sat up, more than a little satisfied when she saw Christian pushed against the same wall he'd pushed her against only minutes ago.

"Please!" he screamed, his eyes finding hers.

Damon fist slammed through the wall right by Christian's head, angry red veins creeping around his black eyes. "Don't. Look. At. Her."

"Max!" Christian yelled.

"I wouldn't count on him."

"Is he dead?"

"You first."

"Wait."

Elena hadn't even realized _she_ had uttered the plea until she saw Damon turning his head to face her.

"Elena," he said in a tight voice. "He's not walking out of here. I _can't_ let him walk out of here."

"Please."

Damon closed his eyes, frustrated by how that one word from her lips pulled at every string he had.

"_Please_."

"No," he snarled, facing his victim again. "No way."

"Damon, I just want to go home. Please."

"He has to pay, Elena!"

She got up from the bed, but as soon as she was standing, she realized she hadn't been ready yet.

Her knees gave in.

She fell.

But she never hit the floor. Not this time.

He had let go of Christian and was holding her, close, pressing her against his chest, one hand on the nape of her back, the other tilting up her chin.

"I'm OK," she whispered, noticing how his eyes were soft and blue again. "I'm OK."

He didn't say a word. He just stared at her, cupping her cheek, his thumb softly grazing her cheekbone. She smiled, welcoming his sweet touch after _him_.

"Could you untie me, please," she whispered, overwelmed by a primal need to touch him.

He nodded, using both hands to work on the ropes. When she was free, he gently took her hands in his.

"Let me kill him," Damon hissed, glaring at the damage the ropes had done on her wrists. "Please."

She shook her head, squeezing his hands softly. "Take me home."

Damon clenched his teeth, cursing under his breath, but the softness in his eyes never left.

"OK," he gave in, grabbing her hands tighter. "Let's go."

He steered her out of the room, intentionally not looking back at _him_. If he did, he wouldn't be able to do what she'd asked of him. It was already unbearable to know he was still breathing after what he'd done. To _Elena_.

Her little hand squeezed his again. She was picking up on his unease. On how hard this was for him. He squeezed back, his thumb running lazy circles over the soft skin on the back of her hand.

"Thank you, Elena."

Three words and every bit of restraint Damon still had left disappeared. He was thanking her? He was actually _thanking _her?

He wanted to turn around, beat him to a bloody pulp, break every bone in his body, but before he could do any of that, Elena let go of his hand and stalked across the room.

He wanted to pull her back, keep her safe, but she was fast. Determined. She'd reached Christian in the blink of an eye. And if Damon had thought Elena Gilbert had no surprises for him left, she showed him just how wrong he was, right there and then, when her tiny, little fist shot out and slammed into Christian's nose, breaking it.

"You listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a man," she hissed, standing only inches away from the whimpering man. "You don't get to thank me! The only reason you're still breathing is because death would be too kind! Tomorrow, I'm going to the sheriff, the mother of a personal friend of mine, and I'm going to tell her about you and your little friend in there. I'm going to make sure you go to jail, where I can guarantee a pretty boy like you will be, how do I put this," she smiled. "_Begging_ night after night. And after that, I won't think about you. Not _ever_ again. But I promise, you'll think about me."

Christian glared at her, holding his nose as she walked away.

"Oh," she said, stopping mid-strut, throwing him one last look. "And don't bother running. I think Damon proved there's really nowhere you can hide."

Christian's eyes flickered to Damon, but the vampire didn't pay any attention to him. All he had eyes for was Elena Gilbert. And after tonight, he knew for sure that _that_ would never change.

"Let's go," Elena said, grabbing his hand again.

He nodded, sweeping her up in his arms, holding her close to him. He would always hold her close from now on. This would _never_ happen to her again.

"Hold your breath," he whispered, digging his nose into her hair. "I'm taking you home."

* * *

**OK, I know I keep teasing you guys, but I'm the kind of girl who needs a 'realistic' build-up. However, I promise SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! I wanted to make this one longer (including _the good part_ already ;p), but you guys were so eager to know what was going to happen next that I didn't want you to wait any longer! So, enjoy! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Before you delve into the next chapter, just a few things:**

**1) I've never written SMUT before, so it took me a little longer to write this chapter! Sorry to keep you waiting :p! Let me know ****what you think and tips are always welcome!**

**2)I know pretty much every writer says this, but I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS! Seriously, your kind words are the reason I keep going (despite my hectic work schedule)! To prove this, I will share with you that it is now currently 5.08 am where I'm from and I have to be at work in about 5 hours, yet, here I am, finishing a chapter and posting it! That's how much you guys motivate me! So, please, keep it coming!**

**3)More than anything else, please, ENJOY!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Wow."

Elena staggered when Damon put her back on the ground. Disoriented and dizzy, she grabbed his muscled arms, holding herself up.

"Don't worry," she heard him say. "You'll be fine in a minute."

After the morning she'd had, she seriously doubted that.

"You're fast," Elena said, when the world finally stopped spinning.

A hint of a smile pulled at his lips and Elena could think of about a thousand dirty things he was about to say. But the smile never came and he didn't make her blush with his seductive words. Instead, he just said,

"Vampire, remember."

Elena frowned at that, watching him confused. Since when did Damon Salvatore miss an opportunity to turn on the charm?

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you inside."

As they walked up the graveled driveway, Elena once again remarked how much this house fit its inhabitants. Old, mysterious, strong, dark. It portrayed everything the Salvatores stood for. Especially the one with his hand on the nape of her back, pushing her closer to it. In a flash, she remembered a time when she was a kid, when this house had been the object of many campfire stories, of many nightmares and when, one Halloween, it had even been the object of a dare between her and Matt. Ironic how, years later, that same house had become one of Elena's favorite places in the world.

"I'll get some stuff to clean those wounds," Damon said, closing the door behind them.

"Do you mind if I clean _myself _first? I feel kind of disgusting."

He nodded, his jaw set. "This way."

He walked in front of her, guiding her up the stairs. When they reached the top, Elena's eyes flickered to the door opposite to the one Damon was guiding her to.

Stefan's door.

Her stomach clutched, guilt hitting her like a hammer to the head. She hadn't even thought about him. Not once.

"He's not home," Damon said, his back still turned to her.

"Where is he?"

"Having his usual furry breakfast."

"What?"

"Bunnies, Elena," Damon said, opening the door to his bedroom. "Tiny, innocent, bunnies."

She wrinkled her nose.

"I know. Disgusting, isn't it?"

Overwhelmed by a need to defend Stefan, do right by him, _for once_, she said, "Not as disgusting as killing humans."

"Some have it coming."

She saw his hand tighten around the doorknob and knew what, or more specifically _who_, he was referring to and decided it was better not to go into it. So, instead, she gave him a sympathetic smile and pushed past him inside the room she'd never dared to enter.

Damon's bedroom was amazing. Dark, masculine, classy, sexy…it was basically the embodiment of Damon Salvatore.

And it was _so_ different from Stefan's. Bigger. Tidier.

"Wait a second," Elena said to the man behind her when a thought crossed her mind. "If Stefan's in the woods, why didn't _he_ hear me?"

Before she could prepare herself for his nearness, he was right behind her, only inches away from her, suddenly very aware, body.

"Damon −"

The words died on her lips when he pushed her hair back, his fingers grazing her collarbone.

"Elena," he rumbled, lowering his head until his mouth feathered the rim of her ear. "How many more times do I have to tell you that I'm superior to my baby brother...in more ways than one."

Elena's body answered for her, her nipples tightening, pushing against the soft fabric of her top.

When his nose started skimming the side of her neck, running up and down the sensitive skin, breathing her in, she bit her lip, fighting to hold back the moans that were building up inside.

And then, his touch was gone.

Shocked, she turned to face him, but quickly wished she hadn't.

His face was a stone cold mask.

No sign of arousal.

No sign of anything even close to it.

"You should take that shower," he said, his voice neutral.

"What?" Elena breathed. "Why−"

And then it dawned on her.

She understood.

Cold sweat soaked her back.

Her stomach turned.

"Oh my God," she whimpered softly. "I smell like _him_, don't I?"

He gave her a tight nod.

"Oh my God!"

Frantically, she started clawing at her top, trying to remove it, but she was shaking too hard, her fingers unable to get a good grasp.

"Elena−"

"No, no, no," she shrieked. "Get it off!"

"Elena−"

"Damon, he's all over me! Damon−"

Roughly, he grabbed her shaky hands, holding them in his, his eyes penetrating hers.

"Elena," he said softly. "Listen to me very closely. I swear to you, he will never hurt you again. _No one_ will _ever _hurt you again."

Her body relaxed.

Her mind slowed down.

How did he do that?

"Do you believe me?"

"Yes," she answered honestly.

"Good. Now, you go take a shower. I'll be right here."

She nodded, disappearing through the door he'd pointed at.

And he didn't even attempt to follow her.

Into his stunning bathroom.

Into his huge, stone rain shower.

Where she would be naked in.

And wet.

There was definitely something wrong with Damon Salvatore.

She didn't know half of it.

* * *

Elena wiped the fog of the mirror, staring at the girl in the glass. Her eyes were red and swollen, proof of her little breakdown. The moment she'd stepped under the water, that dam inside of her had cracked and everything had come spilling out.

_Everything_.

Christian.

Losing her parents.

Losing herself.

Losing everything she'd ever known…in exchange for a world filled with vampires.

A world that had brought her Damon and Stefan Salvatore.

Which was a good thing.

A confusing thing.

A painful thing.

_He's his brother, Elena,_ she scolded, glaring at her reflection. _His brother! You can't do this!_

Shaking her head, she slipped her black, lacy underwear back on. She didn't touch the top. She would never touch it again. Damon could burn it for all she cared.

But that did mean she needed something else to wear.

Tentatively, she put her ear to the door and listened.

Nothing.

_He must be downstairs. Good._

As softly as she could, she tiptoed to his closet and when she opened it, she couldn't push back a chuckle.

If she'd though his room had been screaming Damon Salvatore, _his closet_ was hollering it from the top of its lunges.

Leather jackets. A lot of them. Black. Identical, although a connoisseur might disagree.

Luckily for her, there were also two piles of shirts. One black, one white. No patterns for Damon.

She grabbed a white one, putting it on as quickly as she could, ignoring how much it smelled like him…and how much she adored that smell.

And that wasn't the only thing she was ignoring.

Ever since he'd brought her in here, curiosity had been creeping in.

But she couldn't snoop.

It wasn't right.

Right?

Right.

So why did she suddenly find herself sitting down on his bed, the one that was big enough to house a group of cheerleaders, and why was she looking through the pile of books beside it?

_*Bang*_

Elena jumped, clasping her chest.

"Snooping, are we?"

She jumped again, dropping the copy of _Gone with the Wind_ she'd been flipping through.

"Being creepy, are we?"

He smiled, closing the bedroom door behind him.

"Did you come in just now?" she asked, remembering the front door slamming shut.

"Me?"

"No, I was talking to the other vampire in the room."

He smiled again, his blue eyes lighting up. "Well, I see you're feeling better."

She tucked a wet curl behind her ear, nodding. "Yeah, sorry I took so long in there."

"No worries."

Elena frowned.

He was different than an hour ago.

More relaxed.

More himself again.

She liked it.

"So," he said, leaning back against the door. "What do you think of the room?"

Smiling, she picked up the book she'd dropped and said, "It's not what I expected."

"What _did_ you expect?"

"Well, I never really thought about it," she mumbled, lying through her teeth. "But, I don't know, silk sheets, Anne Rice, a fridge stacked with fresh blood, no windows, one flickering light bulb, just basically a lot more Goth and a lot less Victorian."

"Right," he said, a smirk plastered all over his face. "But you've never really thought about it, huh?"

Her cheeks flushed in that way he loved.

And that's not all he loved. Many girls had worn his shirt after a night of mindless, meaningless sex, but not one of them had ever looked as mouthwatering as her.

In that white, sheer fabric.

In that lacy underwear.

With those tanned, bare legs peeking out underneath the hem.

God, he wanted those legs around him.

A possessive growl started to rise up, but he suppressed it.

She didn't need this.

Not tonight.

Not after _him_.

And for some reason, he _cared._

"So," she said, placing his book back on the nightstand. "Gone with the Wind, huh?"

"First edition. Although, for the record, I _do_ love Anne Rice."

She smiled again.

God, he'd missed that smile.

"Ever read it?" he asked, watching her eye it.

"Actually, yes. It's the first book I ever read."

"The first one? A little heavy for a young girl, isn't it?"

"Well, I didn't _read _it so much as it was read _to_ me. My dad bought it for me when I was six. It was my bedtime story until I became too old and cool for bedtime stories," she said, her lips pulling up at the memory. "Anyway, my mother had this big charity thing once and when she donated some of our stuff, the book was somehow donated, too. I tried every bookstore in and around Mystic Falls, but I never found it."

"Well, I don't know if you heard, but there's this new invention called the printing press that makes it possible to publish more than one copy of a book."

Elena rolled her eyes, flashing her brilliant white teeth. "I _have_ heard of such a thing, but it won't replace what I lost. My dad had written something inside. For me. "

"Oh, I−"

"What is that?" Elena said, interrupting him.

He followed her stupefied gaze to the painting beside him.

"Just some artwork."

Elena squinted at him. "That's not an original, is it?"

"No."

_He's lying,_ she thought as she watched him cross the room to his fireplace.

"Because if it was," she continued. "That painting would not only be incredibly expensive, it would also be incredibly stolen."

Damon poked the fiery logs, a cheeky glint in his eyes. "Well, good thing it's not an original then, huh."

And she was willing to let it go…until she noticed another painting.

"Oh, come on!" she all but cheered, stalking over to it. "_Chez Tortoni_! Manet! Stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston in the nineties! Along with that one," she said, pointing to the one by the door. "Rembrandt's _Lady and Gentleman in Black_!"

Damon stared at her, the fire dancing in his eyes. "Gilbert," he said, his voice low. "Is there anything you don't know?"

_A lot._

_Like why I'm still here. _

_Like why my knees weaken whenever you look at me like that._

"I took an art class last year. And that _was _the biggest art theft in American History."

"Yes, it was," he said, crossing his arms. "It must've been some really skilled robbers."

"Or one very skilled vampire."

"I guess we'll never know."

"I guess not."

"Better?"

Elena furrowed her brow. "What?"

"The fire. You were cold."

He was right. She hadn't realized it before the warmth of the flames had enveloped her. She'd thought the goose bumps had been because of him.

Which was probably still the case.

She was never going to get used to his ability to read her body like a book.

And to play it like a violin.

"I'm having a slight problem with my window," he explained.

"Is it stuck?" she asked, stalking over to the thick drapes. "Maybe some oil would help."

"I don't think oil will do it."

Frowning, she pulled the drapes open and her mouth dropped.

"What happened?" she asked, staring at the shattered window.

He leaned back against the fireplace his eyes holding hers. "Some cute girl was calling out my name."

Butterflies exploded in her stomach. He'd done this for _her_.

"You couldn't use the door?" she asked, swallowing hard, trying to keep the conversation casual.

"No time," he growled. "She sounded kind of desperate."

"She kind of was," she whispered, closing the drapes. "Did you hurt yourself?"

He laughed. Something he did way too little for her taste.

"Did_ I_ get hurt?"

"It's not _that_ a ridiculous question."

"I'm a vampire."

"And that means that jumping through solid glass and then dropping two stories doesn't hurt."

"I heal fast."

"So there are wounds that have to be healed in the first place, right?"

He sighed, pinching his forehead. "You're exhausting, Gilbert. Now, turn."

"Excuse me?"

He disappeared in a flash, but was back before she could wonder where he'd gone to.

"Turn," he said, holding up a first aid kit.

"I'm fine."

He gave her a pointed look.

Elena raised her hands in defeat, rolling her eyes as she followed his order.

And then, as she stood there, her back turned to him, something in the room shifted.

Something invisible.

But she could feel the change in every fiber of her being.

No more small talk.

No more light chitchat.

There was a tension, now.

An electricity hanging in the air.

Between her and Damon.

"I need to get to your back," he said when he reached her, his warm breath misting her ear. She could tell by the tone in his voice that he'd senses the change too.

She nodded, swallowing back the sudden lump in her throat.

Her fingers trembled as she worked on the buttons.

_Stop it,_ she though, feeling her heart race. _He's just going to clean the cuts on your back._ _He's Damon Salvatore. He's seen girls in their underwear before. It's probably no big deal to him._

Closing her eyes, she loosened the last button and let the shirt slip down her body.

And then, she waited.

Waited for his touch.

Waited for the sting of the alcohol wipes.

But nothing happened.

After a long minute, she shot a glance over her, bare, shoulder and nearly started at his expression. There was such a look of carnal desire in his gaze… Heat bloomed like a runaway fire in her veins and settled in between her thighs, causing a pulsating sensation that grew in intensity with every passing second. Finally, his fingers caressed her back, gently running over the tiny cuts.

"They're already closed." His voice was low, seductive and soon she found herself dropping her chin to her chest, murmuring sounds she'd never heard before.

"Damon−"

His fingers found her spine then, slowly running down, all the way to the top of her panties.

She wanted to say _stop_. She wanted to walk out. But she couldn't. The tingling in her nipples and the rising ache in her sex held her in a spell of desire so strong she thought her legs wouldn't be able to support her much longer.

Damon watched her in silence. He was doing exactly what he'd promised himself not to do. Not tonight anyway. But how could he not? The moment he'd seen her in his bedroom, wearing his shirt, his smell, it had been all he could think about. And watching her now, growing soft under his touch, her body within his reach, he wanted nothing more than to suckle those pink, swollen lips and feel the exquisite weight of her breasts in his hands. He wanted to be inside her more than he wanted his next breath.

In an animalistic move, he took a handful of her lacy panties and pulled her back, against him. Immediately, his senses were bombarded, overrun with her feminine smell and the feel of her soft, female flesh pressed against him. Painfully aroused, Damon had neither the strength nor the desire to fight himself any longer. With a soft nudge of his hand, he tilted her head to the side and feathered her skin with peppered kisses until she began to pant and moan, relaxing against him, folding into his hard planes _perfectly._

A lust-filled hiss escaped him when she slowly rolled her hips against him, causing her sweet buttocks to slide over his already swollen length.

"God, I want you Elena," he groaned, his nails digging into her shoulders. "But do that again and it'll be over for me."

Elena's eyes fluttered shut, helpless to stop the savage surge of heath that ran through her at his words. A rush of moisture flowed between her legs, causing her to grow slick. And she knew the moment he became aware of it. She could hear him suck in his breath.

"Elena," he moaned.

She threw her head back, resting it on his shoulders.

She _felt_ the next growl before she heard it. It rippled through his chest all the way up to his throat.

And then, she didn't feel anything.

Nothing, besides his hands on her breasts, molding her firm roundness.

Her ragged pants escalated to a high keening sound.

It wasn't enough.

She needed more…and he knew.

With his thumbs, he swiped her eager nipples through the lacy fabric until she was mindless with pleasure.

"So good," he breathed, his hands flexing strongly on her tender flesh.

Elena clutched his hard thighs in a death grip as she pressed her breasts further into his grip, wanting more, _needing_ more.

"That's it, sweetness" he rumbled, nibbling her earlobe. "Give into me."

_God, yes._

One breast was abandoned, but before she could utter her protest, his hand was roaming down her belly, leaving a trail of scorching sparks on her prickling skin. Slowly, teasingly, he walked his fingers down her stomach, towards where she'd been yearning for him for way too long.

"Oh my−" His hand cupped her hot spot, momentarily cutting of her air supply.

Her eyelids fluttered closed as she raised one hand over her head and entangled it in his black hair, pulling it, hard.

"Easy, sweetness, easy." Despite his soothing words, his voice came out strained as if he was holding on to his control by the slimmest of margins. "I'll give you what you want."

If she had been in her right mind, she would've been appalled at his words. Appalled at herself. For showing him how much power he had over her. For showing him he could literally make her squirm. But she was mindless. She couldn't think of anything but the fire he had started, the fire that now raged hot between her thighs.

He paused at the beginning of her panties, lingering there, taunting her.

"Damon," she moaned throatily, both warning and begging him at the same time.

"Yes sweetness?"

She couldn't see the smirk on his face, but she was sure it would be there. He thought he had her in his power. Which was true. But he wasn't the only one with power.

Which she made very clear with one simple roll of her hips.

"Vixen," he growled. "You'll pay for that."

With a cry of relief, she felt his fingers sliding inside her panties, parting her throbbing folds.

"So wet already," he rumbled, pleased with himself.

Growling, he watched her cheeks turn pink. She was embarrassed.

But why?

She was perfect.

Flawless.

And she was his.

Overwhelmed by a possessiveness he'd never experienced, he took her nipple between his thumb en index finger and pinched, causing her to arch her back. Another pinch and then he delved a finger inside of her, making her scream in relief. She'd wanted him as bad as he'd wanted her. He could feel it now. In her core. In her heath. He slid a second finger inside. Every muscle in there tightened around him. Trying to pull him in deeper. She was already close. She was almost there.

"Come for me, Elena," he whispered, kneading her breast.

She whimpered, moving against him desperately, searching for her release.

He plunged his fingers deeper, faster.

"Let go, sweetness," he ordered, his own breaths turning ragged. "Come."

Waves of pleasure build up inside of her.

Her body trembled.

Her knees buckled.

"Gaaawd, Damon."

Finally, she exploded in his arms, screaming his name.

_His_.

Not Stefan's.

Not Matt's.

_His_.

She was _his_.

Still panting, she relaxed against him.

"That was fast," he rumbled against her damp neck.

Elena covered her eyes in embarrassment, letting out a little chuckle.

"Obviously, my brother hasn't been keeping you satisfied."

He knew it had been the wrong thing to say the second it had passed his lips.

The second she tensed in his arms.

The second she shrugged away from his touch.

"Elena−" he reached out to her, but she took a step back, holding up her hand.

"You," she hissed, her eyes narrow. "Don't _ever_ get to touch me again."

"Elena−"

She waved her hand to shut him up and grabbed the forgotten shirt of the floor, ignoring the bulge in his jeans.

"Elena!" she heard him yell as she ran down the stairs. "Elena, wait!"

"You arrogant piece of shit," she hissed, knowing her would hear her. "You stupid, infantile, macho−"

"Elena, please, just wait!"

"No!"

Fuming, she pulled open the door…only to have it been shut again in an instant, his palm pressing down on the wood.

And _his_ wood pressing down on her back.

"Elena," he groaned. "Don't go."

She put her forehead to the door, hating how her body was still reacting to him.

How it was still not satisfied.

But she couldn't stay.

Not after _that_.

Once again, Damon Salvatore had shown his true colors. He was a possessive, jealous, dominant vampire. Who didn't want _her_. Not really. All he wanted was his brother's girl. It could've been anybody. If Stefan had been dating Bonnie, he would've wanted her…and he never would've glanced twice at average, human Elena.

So she had to get out. Now. Before she got in any deeper.

"Let go of the door, Damon."

The muscles in his arm rippled and she was sure that if she turned around, she would be staring into the eyes of a very pissed off vampire.

"You don't _want_ to leave, Elena," he growled. "I can _smell_ it. You want to stay. With me."

_Yes, more than anything._

_But you don't want me._

"Let go of the door, Damon."

He had her turned around before she could object, but she refused to look at him.

"Elena, don't be like that."

His warm breath hit her cheek, his scent threatening to overtake her common sense. But she couldn't falter.

Not this time.

Stubbornly, she kept her face turned away from him when she snarled, "Let go of the door, Damon."

"No."

She faced him now, furious brown on heated blue. "So what is your plan exactly? Are you're going to force me to stay?"

"I could."

"I know."

A smug smile pulled at his lips.

"Hell, you wouldn't even be the first one who tried to force something on me today."

The smile dropped.

His hand disappeared.

And before he could convince her to stay, which she knew he eventually would, she ran off into dawn, determined to forget all about Damon Salvatore.

_Yeah,_ a voice inside her head scoffed. _Good luck with that._

* * *

**THANKS FOR READING! AND DON'T FORGET TO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT SMUT! SHOULD I KEEP GOING OR SHOULD I LEAVE IT TO THE PRO'S? 'TILL NEXT TIME!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I hate you."

Elena smiled at the girl sitting on her bed. "Don't exaggerate."

"Exaggerate? Look at yourself! You're gorgeous! Hate!"

Elena rolled her eyes at Caroline, but she couldn't deny that the blond had a point. It had been ages since Elena had dressed up and she'd almost forgotten that she cleaned up pretty nice. Glancing in the full-length mirror, she rearranged her thick curls for the zillionth time and ran her hands over the burgundy, sleeveless, chiffon dress. It had cost her a small fortune, but it had been worth it.

Slowly, she swayed back and forth, the hem of the fabric gliding over the floor. A habit from when she'd been a little girl, trying on her mother's clothes. But she wasn't a little girl anymore. Case in point, the low cut neckline that made her flush.

"Are you sure this isn't too much?"

Caroline huffed. "No. Stefan said to dress up, remember."

"Right," she mumbled, casting the blond an innocent look. "He didn't happen to tell you where we're going, did he?"

"Nice try, El," Caroline sang, handing her the long, silver necklace. "Let yourself be surprised for once."

Elena snorted. "I've had enough surprises lately, thank you."

"Right, sorry," Caroline apologized, her hand stroking Elena's bare back. A back that was now completely healed.

"Speaking off, did your mother mention anything about my case?"

She shook her head. "No leads."

"I still can't believe they ran."

"Off course they ran. What did you think? That they were just going to stay put and wait to be arrested?"

_Yes,_ Elena thought, remembering how afraid Christian had been.

_His_ face, furious and vamped out, popped up in front of her. Luckily, the first notes of _Love the way you lie _that suddenly filled the room snapped her out of that dangerous train of thought.

"Hey, Stefan," Caroline sang, answering her phone.

Elena watched her, wishing she had vampire hearing so she could follow the conversation.

"OK," Caroline eventually said, nodding. "No problem. Bye."

"What did he say?"

"He's being held up."

"So, he'll be later?"

"So, I'll have to drop you off at his place."

Elena's heart sank. "No."

"Why not?"

_Because I've been avoiding that house and one certain inhabitant for over a week now and I'd really like to keep doing that a little longer._

_Until I have him out of my system._

_Until I stop dreaming about him._

_Until I can be in one room with him again without craving him, desperately._

But she couldn't say any of that. Because no one knew what had really happened that night. No one knew Damon had saved her or what had happened afterwards. Hell, as far as everyone else was concerned, she and Damon didn't even have any sort of relationship.

Well, Bonnie knew. But she'd been a lot nicer since the attack. Elena knew she felt responsible for leaving her alone that night, so she'd gotten a get-out-of-jail-free card. Bonnie never mentioned Damon and Elena did the same in exchange.

It never happened.

If only her heart and body would agree.

"Can I take the silence as a sign that you're good to go?"

Elena searched her brain for an excuse, but she knew it was a lost cause. Why would she not want to go to her boyfriend's house?

"Sure," she mumbled. "Let's go."

* * *

"This driveway was not made for heels."

"Sorry," Elena murmured, her own black shoes causing some trouble themselves. "I just don't want to be alone in case Stefan's not there, yet."

"Hey, I get it. That house creeps me out, too."

_Yeah, sure. That's why._

"Wait 'till you see the inside."

"Oh, God, is it, like, terrifying?"

"No, it's more like a Sotheby's auction," Elena said, smiling at a precious memory.

The memory of h_er_ first time in the Salvatore Boarding House.

The memory of meeting _him_.

_I have to say,_ that mocking voice inside laughed. _So far, you're doing a dandy job forgetting about him._

_Shut up!_ Elena hissed back.

"Are you going to knock or−"

Elena nodded, pulling herself together. "Yeah, sure."

As her knuckles made contact with the wooden door, her heart started racing.

A long minute passed.

A minute in which she imagined every possible outcome of that one knock.

No one opening the door.

Stefan opening the door and pulling her in for a long, warm hug.

And then, Damon opening the door and, well, pulling her in for something very different.

"I guess no one's home."

Elena hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath until she exhaled at Caroline's words.

"Key?"

"No need. The Salvatores aren't an afraid bunch."

"Really?"

"Nope," Elena said, opening the door. "They're−"

"**SURPRISE!"**

She jumped, clasping her chest, suddenly regretting her choice of nine-inch heels. Luckily, Stefan was right by her side, holding her waist.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear.

She blushed, smiling at the people crowding the room that used to have couches and a table, but was now completely open and ready for a party. Within seconds, she was engulfed by _congratulations_ and _happy birthdays_ and _many mores_. Tyler, Matt, Bonnie, Jeremy and a few dozen others who she still remembered from her popular, cheerleading days were all there, looking amazing.

"I thought we were going to dinner or something!" Elena said when she'd finally reached the other side of the room.

"And disappoint all of your friends?" Stefan said, laughter in his voice.

"You do know you're going to pay for this, right?"

"Looking forward to it," he said, his hand softly resting on the nape of her back. "By the way, have I told you how beautiful you look tonight."

"No."

His lips pulled up in a little smile as he pushed her to him. "Well, you do."

"Thank you," she sang, her hands resting on his chest.

Slowly, he dipped his head, kissing her sweetly.

"I got you something," he whispered against her lips.

Pulling back, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little, brown box.

"Stefan, you shouldn't have."

He gave her one of his Stefan-head shakes and said, "Just open it."

"Oh, my God," she whispered, staring at the sterling silver necklace inside. "This is amazing."

"Turn."

A memory came rushing back. A memory she shouldn't be having. Especially not with Stefan standing right in front of her, his eyes sparkling.

"Turn, Elena," he repeated, taking the necklace out of the box.

She swallowed hard and followed his instruction.

As Stefan pushed her hair back and put the jewel on her, Elena couldn't help but notice how her body was reacting to him.

Or not reacting.

When Damon had touched her in the exact same way, her entire body had been set on fire.

When Stefan touched her, nothing.

Nothing but guilt.

"It looks beautiful on you," he said, cupping her cheek.

Elena fingered the silver. "Thank you, Stefan."

"You're welcome." He leaned in for another kiss.

"OK, enough with the lovey-dovey," Bonnie cut in, grinning from ear to ear. "Time to dance."

* * *

Damon leaned back against the wall, his hand clutching the balustrade as he overlooked the scene below.

Loud, terrible music boomed through his house as dozens of humans below danced, their blood coursing hot through their veins. But he didn't pay any attention to them. He only had eyes for the girl they were all congratulating. The girl in the amazing dress that hugged her body in all the right places. The girl with his brother's hand on her back.

Snarling, Damon clutched the balustrade so hard it dented the wood.

"So, that's her?"

He nodded.

"You _do_ see the resemblance, right?"

"No, Rose, I'm blind," he snarled, glaring at the short-haired brunette.

"Alright, alright, no need to get testy," she sang, leaning over the rail beside him.

There was a long silence as Damon watched Stefan kiss her.

Kiss _Elena_.

_His _Elena.

Another snarl passed his lips and Rose cast him a knowing look.

"Shut up, Rose."

"I didn't say anything."

"Keep it that way."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll rip your head off."

Rose smiled. "No, you won't Salvatore."

She was right. Beside the fact that she was older than him and, he hated to admit, he was no match for her, she was also the closest thing he had to a friend. Not to mention that she was amazing in the sack.

"So, lusting after your brother's girl, huh?" she sang, sitting down on the rail, facing him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Damon. Who else are you going to talk to about this?"

"No one."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, we'll just stay here then, in silence, while your drool over the Katherine-girl."

"Don't call her that," he hissed, watching Stefan put a necklace on her. A necklace that looked very familiar.

"Touched a nerve there?"

Damon snorted. "You're just hell-bend on making me talk, aren't you?"

"I'm interested and not much interests me anymore."

"I thought _I_ interested you last night. And the night before that. And the night−"

"Nice try, Damon," she interrupted him. "But you're not distracting me from the point. The Salvatores are fighting over the same woman they fought over more than a century ago and−"

"She's nothing like Katherine."

"She's not?"

"No," he whispered, watching Elena laugh as Caroline twirled her around. "She's kind. Warm. And she would die for the people she loves. She's Katherine's complete opposite."

"And yet, you feel for her."

Damon's head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she said, unimpressed by his deadly glare. "You feel something for that girl."

"Don't be ridiculous," he spit out.

"OK, then why haven't you slept with her, yet?"

"How do you know I haven't?

"You moaned her name three times last night. Why would you do that if you could have her?"

"I moaned her name?"

She nodded.

"Rose, I−"

"Relax, Damon. I don't care. I still got what I wanted."

He smiled, cocking an arrogant eyebrow.

"So, why haven't you slept with her?" she persisted.

"Not for a lack of trying if you're suggesting I care too much to sleep with her right away."

"Why didn't you compel her, then? I mean, if you just want her because she's hot, why not just _take_ her?"

"Drop it, Rose."

"You don't just want her for one night, do you?"

"Last warning," he hissed through clenched teeth.

She sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll drop it. I have to go anyway."

"Do you have a few minutes before you do?"

She bit her lip. "Again, Damon? Really?"

He smirked. "Not that I couldn't, but no, Rose. I just want to change before I escort you downstairs."

"I can find my own way out."

"I know, but I want to walk you out."

"Why−" she trailed off, glancing at the dancing girl below. "Right. Never mind. Just hurry up. Trevor's waiting."

* * *

"I need a drink!" Elena yelled in Bonnie's ear, pointing at the improvised bar. "I'll be right back!"

Bonnie gave her the thumbs-up and continued her frantic dance pace.

"One scotch, please," Elena said, smiling at the young bartender.

"You're the birthday-girl, right?" he said, smiling back.

"Yup."

"Then, I don't think so."

Her smile dropped. "What?"

"You're not twenty-one."

"Fine," she sighed. "A diet coke, please."

"Coming right, up."

"Done dancing?" Stefan asked from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Elena laughed, turning in his embrace. "I was getting a little lonely out there."

"You know I don't dance."

"Mmmm," she sang. "And if I beg you?"

He shook his head, pulling her closer for a kiss.

"Is it just me," Elena whispered into his mouth. "Or are you vibrating?"

He whimpered, letting go of her lips and reached into his pocket.

"Huh," he said, checking caller-ID. "It's Lexi."

"Who?"

"A friend I haven't seen in a very long time. Why would she be calling me now?"

"Take it."

"It's too loud in here. I'll call her back outside."

"OK," Elena said, sipping from her diet coke.

"I'll be right back."

"You better."

He smiled, kissing her forehead. The sweet gesture made her stomach turn with guilt. Again.

Ever since that night in Damon's room, she'd been wondering whether or not she should tell Stefan. About what had happened. But whenever she started to admit everything, the words just didn't come. How was she supposed to tell someone who loved her that she'd betrayed him in the worst possible way?

And then the door closed behind him and she saw something that made the guilt fade. That made everything inside her fade, besides maybe the disgust.

Damon.

With some woman.

A gorgeous woman.

And he was kissing her.

_Really_ kissing her.

_Jeez, get a room._

_They probably just came from one._

"Hey, are you OK?"

Elena dragged her eyes away from the nauseating scene by the door and turned her attention to Bonnie.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, plastering a smile on her face.

"Because you look kind of−"

Bonnie followed her gaze and when she saw him, closing the door behind his 'friend', Elena was glad looks couldn't actually kill or else the dashing vampire would've been destroyed in a second.

"Elena," she sighed. "Why−"

Quickly, Elena raised her finger to her mouth, tapped her ear and then pointed at Damon. She understood the sign and shut up, but the fire in her eyes told her the conversation would be picked up when no one with vampire hearing could eavesdrop.

"OK," Bonnie said, her voice still a little tight. "I'm going back to the dance floor. Join me?"

That's when his eyes found hers.

And just like that, with one look, she finally faced what she'd been trying to deny ever since she walked away that night.

One simple truth.

She'd missed him.

And it didn't help that he looked _incredibly _handsome in his dark, blue jeans and black V-neck that accentuated every good part. And there were many good parts. Too many.

"Elena," Bonnie said, snapping her out of her drooling-session. "Let's go dance."

One corner of his lips−his beautiful, blood red lips−pulled up as he started towards her, making his way through the crowd.

"Just give me one second."

"Elena−"Bonnie warned.

"One second, Bonnie."

"Don't do this."

"I'm just going to talk to him."

"Elena, you're not−"

Bonnie stopped talking when Damon reached them, that heart stopping glint in his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Miss Gilbert," he rumbled, reaching for her hand.

She let him take it this time and as he pressed his lips down on her soft skin, his blue, deep eyes never left hers.

"Mister Salvatore," she said, noticing how her voice had gone up one pitch.

He did that eye-thing he did. That eye-thing that made those sparks ignited in her stomach again. God, she'd missed that feeling.

"I'm here too," Bonnie snarled.

"Take a hike, Brunhilde," Damon hissed.

"Elena!"

"Just, give me one second," she pleaded. "I'll be right there, I promise."

"Fine. But do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"For God's sake, let go of his hand."

She hadn't even realized she'd been holding his hand. He had, though, because at some point, he'd entwined his fingers with hers. And that made her heart flutter.

But it shouldn't, because the reasons she'd walked away from him still applied. He didn't want her. Not really.

Gently, she pulled her hand from his, smiling at Bonnie.

"There. Now, one second, please."

Bonnie nodded, but she clearly wasn't happy about the situation.

"I really don't like that witch," Damon said, watching her walk away.

"She's my friend, Damon."

"She's annoying, Elena."

"So are you."

That adorable smile spread across his face and Elena found herself smiling along.

"Nice necklace," he said, reaching for the silver.

His fingertips brushed the smooth skin between her breasts as he took the jewel in his hand, examining it. It was an innocent caress…if it had been anyone else, but he'd touched her on purpose. She was sure of it.

"It was a gift."

"I know," he said, dropping the silver. "I saw."

Something in her chest contracted. He'd watched her. With Stefan.

Everything in her knotted together, like she'd just been caught doing something very wrong.

But she _hadn't_ been doing _anything_ wrong! Stefan was her boyfriend, damn it!

He turned away from her and for a brief second, she thought he was leaving.

And she didn't want him to.

Not yet.

Luckily, he only got as far as the bar.

"One scotch, please."

The bartender didn't object this time.

"Hey," she exclaimed. "How come he gets alcohol?"

"He's my boss," the bartender said. "And he's over twenty-one."

Elena sighed, eyeing her diet coke. "How old were you anyway when you−" she remembered her surroundings and said, "You know."

"Twenty-four," he said, getting his drink without a third degree. "Why?"

"Just wondering," she said, doing the math in her head. He was seven years older. Well, not really, but to the outside world, he was.

Frowning, she grabbed her soda, but before she could raise it to her lips, Damon took her glass and replaced it with his.

"Happy birthday," he said taking a sip from her diet coke.

"This is exactly what I expected Damon Salvatore to get me for my birthday," she snickered,

"Well, the real present is on its way."

"Yeah," Elena chuckled. "I'm sure."

"Gilbert," he rumbled, taking a step closer to her. "Are you calling me a liar?"

His eyes darkened and suddenly, she throbbed. Her whole body just _throbbed_.

Looking away from him, she took a large gulp of the liquor, but soon regretted it.

"Oh, my God," she coughed, wiping her mouth.

"Oh, Elena," Damon said in a mocked sad voice. "You disappoint me."

"It's not that I can't take it," she huffed. "It's just disgusting."

"Who's the liar now?"

"Here!" she exclaimed, handing him the glass.

Smiling, he took a sip and in an instant, his face changed into a grimace. "Wow."

"Told you," she laughed.

His expression suddenly turned serious as he watched her lips and put the glass down.

"You know," he breathed, taking one of her curls and twirling it around his finger. "I have better stuff in my room."

Elena forced herself to roll her eyes, trying to ignore the disturbing quickening of her pulse as a too vivid image came to mind.

"Is that a no?"

The air around her grew so dense she was sure she could cut it with a knife.

She bit down on her lip and shook her head. "Stefan is right outside, Damon."

Instead of heeding her warning, Damon took another step forward, bringing her within only inches of his tightly wound form.

"So?"

She had nowhere to go. Not in the middle of her own party. So, she just stood there, exposed and trapped, caged like a hungry lion's prey. A lion with a voracious appetite who'd just come upon his next meal.

"God," he rumbled, his eyes glistening. "You look so mouthwatering."

"Damon, don't."

"Or what? You'll scream?" he growled, sending her a seductive grin. "I like it when you scream."

"I won't scream," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "But I'll leave. And I won't come back."

For a moment, he could only stare at her and Elena could see him struggling with the decision, struggling with himself. Which is why, when he took a step back, she wasn't just relieved. She was impressed. And flattered.

Damon nearly groaned aloud, convinced his worst enemy had sent her to test him, torture him. "So, you're really just going to ignore what happened?"

Her breathing stopped for a long second, and then came out in an audible rasp. "Damon−"

"Is it that easy for you?"

"Not here," she begged.

"Then where, Elena?" he gnarled. "Where could I possibly talk to you if you keep running?"

"I'm not running."

"Don't lie. It doesn't suit you."

Despite the coolness of his words, she was suddenly hot, her nerves protesting the unforgiving confines of her skin.

"Get out," she said, her voice deceptively low, deceptively soft.

"No."

"Damon, please−"

"That won't do it this time, sweetness."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Sweetness?" he asked, his smoky gaze dipping to her neckline. "What should I call you, then?"

"Damon−"

"Darling?" he continued, running one finger over her bare arm. "Honey? Pumpkin?"

"Stop it."

"No, I know." Slowly, he leaned forward and purred in her ear. "_Lover_."

A choked breath wheezed past her lips.

Her cheeks pink, she shoved him away from her and when she saw the beginnings of a smile on his lips, anger took over. Without thinking it through, her hand flew out, intending to slap that enjoyment right off his face.

But she'd forgotten she was dealing with a vampire.

Something she forgot a lot around Damon Salvatore.

Before her hand could make contact with his cheek, he intercepted it and pulled her into the crowd.

Elena darted a quick glance around. Eyes alight with anticipation stared back at her. She could almost hear their thoughts as they made what seemed like a mile-long walk to the dance floor as onlookers hurried to clear a path for their progress.

Elena wasn't certain which was worse, the whispers or the knowledge that she couldn't pull away without looking even more suspicious.

She was trapped.

So, instead of bolting, she rested one hand on his shoulder and let him hold on to the other as the music changed into a softer, slower rhythm.

_Great,_ she thought, ignoring the tingling of her flesh in all the places they came in contact: her hands, her waist, the small of her back.

Elena gave an involuntary shiver. Was it her or had the temperature in the Boarding House risen several degrees since the dance had started?

"Why are you doing this to me, Damon?" she whispered against his neck.

"Am I such a bad dancer?"

"Don't," she begged, finding it impossible to hide her feelings in his warm embrace. "Just answer me. Why? Why can't you just go after that brunette and let me be?"

Damon pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. "You know why, Elena."

Elena shook her head and to her utter horror, she felt tears pushing to break free. "No, I don't, Damon. You can have everyone in this room. Including most of the men. They're all willing. So why me?"

"Elena−"

"Seriously," she whimpered, feeling a tear trickle down her cheek. "Is it the chase? Is it because I'm the one person here who you can't have?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she said, "Is it because of Stefan?"

There it was. The question that had been weighing down on her ever since she'd met Damon Salvatore. She hadn't meant to actually ask him, _ever_, but she couldn't take it anymore. She had to know. She had to know, because maybe if he admitted it, if she finally knew the truth, she could let go. Let go of the fantasy that she could have him, all of him. Let go of these feelings she'd been burying. They were just too painful.

Almost as painful as the long silence that followed, a silence that really was an answer onto itself.

"Right," she sobbed, wiping a salty drop from her chin. "Excuse me."

Without looking back, Elena pushed her way through the crowd, holding back the stream of tears that were yearning to break free. Knowing she couldn't push them back for long, she entered the first room she came across, slamming the door behind her.

The library.

The most soothing place in the Salvatore house, in her opinion. But not tonight.

Embarrassed, she clasped her hand over her mouth, keeping the sobs inside, feeling thick drops slide down. What was wrong with her? She was never a crier and yet, the more time she spend with Damon, the more those walls inside cracked, walls she'd worked very hard on to keep up and solid. Walls she needed to protect herself.

It took Damon all about five seconds before he jerked the door open and followed her inside, his roar of anger bouncing of the bookshelves.

Elena backed away, but he followed her, pausing only to close the door behind him.

"Is that what you think?" he yelled, his furious gaze hard on hers. "That I want you because you're with my brother? _That's_ why you've been avoiding me?"

"Like that's such a big leap!" she yelled back, doing her best not to trip over her own feet as she quickened her backwards pace. "Does the name _Katherine_ ring any bells?"

"You stupid human!" he gnarled, flinging a little table that blocked his path to the other side of the room where it splintered into pieces above the fireplace

She knew she should stop this. She knew she shouldn't be fighting with him. He needed to calm down. Now. But she couldn't stop.

"Just admit it, Damon! Be a man!"

"I'm _not_ a man, Elena!"

"In this case, you are!" she screamed. "You're just like the rest of them! Jealous, competitive, born for the chase!"

"Be very careful, Elena!"

"OK, then prove it! Tell me why you want me if not because I'm Stefan's!"

He roared again and Elena could've sworn she actually saw the windows vibrate.

"This isn't some romantic chick-flick! I'm not going to give you a long list of reasons why I want you!"

"No?" she fumed. "Then what will do you do, Damon? Beside intimidate me into dropping it? What will you do?"

"This!"

He was on her before she could scream. Her back hit the bookshelf behind her so hard a few novels came crashing down, hitting the ground with a loud thumb. Terrified, she opened her mouth to remind him he couldn't kill her, that everyone would know it had been him, but it wasn't death Damon had on his mind.

Without giving her a chance to fight back, he pinned her arms to her side and slammed his mouth down on hers.

_Stop it!_ she thought, feeling her resistance grow weak. _Fight!_

His tongue pushed against her lips, seeking entrance.

_Oh, screw it._

Finally letting go, she parted her lips, immediately sliding her tongue over his. With a shudder she realized they'd never done this. They'd never kissed. And what a waste of time that had been, because, _God_, the man could kiss. And his taste…So rich, so decadent, so _right_. It made every other taste she'd ever had in her mouth seem inferior. In fact, if she never tasted anything else again, she would be just fine with that.

He released her wrists and entangled his fingers in her hair, pushing her closer to him, deepening their kiss until he could claim every inch of her mouth.

This kiss had no limits.

_They_ had no limits.

Every thought vanished from her mind, except the hard male form gathering her ever closer and bending her neck back.

Nothing had prepared Damon for the sheer wildness that was Elena Gilbert. He couldn't get enough of her, of her mouth, of her tongue, of everything she had to offer. Plastering her against the length of him, his erection stabbing at her belly, he couldn't stop his hips from bucking against her. It didn't help that she did the same, helplessly rolling her hips against him, threatening to send him over the precipice of sanity. With a harsh groan and his breathing already labored, he tore his mouth from hers and grabbed her thighs, hauling her up until she locked her legs around his waist.

It was Elena who claimed his lips again first, pulling his hair as if to give him a taste of his own medicine, plundering his mouth in the way he'd done hers.

God, she tasted good. Sweet, soft, luscious. She tasted like everything he'd always imagined her to taste like and then some. And that tongue…She could bring any man to his knees. Even him.

Finding himself shivering for the first time in ages, he managed to remove his hands from her quivering form long enough to pull his shirt over his head. He needed to be closer to her and even the light fabric of his V-neck had been too much space between them.

He paused before kissing her again, taking in the sight of her, panting, her lips parted, her eyes drowsy and heated. God, he could think of nothing but driving himself into her, burying himself as deep as he could.

The glide of her tongue along the edge of her kiss-plumped lips jolted him from his daze and back into action.

Growling, he took the straps of her dress and slid them down her arms, making the fabric drop down to her waist.

No bra. How lucky could one guy be.

His breathing labored, he licked the rise of one breast. She rewarded him by arching her back, pressing herself closer to him.

"Damon−"

He looked up at her, fearing she was going to ask him to stop, to let go. Fearing that she'd run from him again, vanish like she'd done before. And he would let her, because no matter how much of a monster he was, he had never and never would force himself on a woman. Especially not on her.

"Yes?" his voice was raw with a hunger that he'd been holding back for way too long.

"Enough foreplay," she whimpered. "Please. I need you. Now."

Never in her entire life had Elena ever been this desperate for anyone. Never had she so boldly spoken to a man. But she couldn't help herself. Damon Salvatore made her crazy with lust, with desire. Her entire body screamed at her to hurry up, to finally let him give her everything. It felt like, if he didn't, soon, she was literally going to either pass out or explode. Neither were acceptable options.

Shivering at the look of molted desire in her eyes, he jerked her dress up, his fingers hot and hard on her thighs as he shredded her underwear.

She flexed her legs around his hips, squirming when his fingers parted her, testing her, teasing her, absorbing the burn his touch had started and building it to an inferno of desire, arousal and all-consuming need.

"Damon!" she screamed, grateful that every room in the Salvatore house was soundproof. "For the love of all that is holy, please!"

His fingers disappeared, but before she could mourn their departure, she heard a sound that made everything inside her tighten even more.

A zipper.

Suddenly, her legs no longer rubbed against denim, but against smooth, warm skin. _His_ smooth, warm skin.

"Look at me, Elena," he gnarled, his voice borderline animalistic.

She did and was startled for a split second. His eyes were completely black. She could no longer tell were his pupil ended and his iris began. But she didn't care. She didn't care about anything, but the ache inside that needed to be satisfied.

"You're mine," he ground out through clenched teeth, the heated tip of him pushing against her throbbing entrance. "Say it!"

She grabbed his hair and arched herself against him, desperate to feel him inside, desperate for his heath, his fire, his hunger. Her soul burned for the touch of his, her body wept tears of passion that only he could stop.

"Say it!" he snarled, his nails digging into her thighs.

"God, yes, Damon," she gave in, gazing deeply into his eyes. "I'm yours."

With a roar, he lunged, pinning her against the wall as his body became the invader, spreading her, impaling her, touching her in a way that no mortal man could.

He was inside of her. And she was tight. Too tight. He knew he was probably hurting her, but he couldn't stop the advance and retreat of his hips as he plowed into her.

His fear of causing her pain, however, vanished immediately when he felt her nails digging into his back, no doubt drawing blood.

"Gaawd, Damon," she rasped, putting her forehead to his. "Don't stop."

Like he was planning on it.

Mindless with lust, Damon quickened his pace, now slamming into her with such ferocity he had no doubt he'd leave her sore. The knowledge, however, didn't stop him. And to his disbelief, sweet, gentle Elena seemed to like it rough. At least, that's what her body told him.

"Oh, gaawd, Damon," she moaned hoarsely, "I'm coming."

He knew. He could feel her tighten more and more around his cock.

"Open your eyes, Elena," he ordered.

She did and the sight of those begging brown eyes almost made him come before she could.

Finding the rhythm she needed, the rhythm he needed, he grabbed her round butt and kept her in place, bucking into her at a pace no other human girl had ever been able to handle.

"I'm−" she threw her head back, but Damon grabbed her chin and forced her face back.

"Look at me when you come, Elena."

"Yes," she grated, her hips starting to buck into him, forcing him in even deeper. "Yes, yes, yes−"

She stiffened in his arm, her eyes widening, her mouth opening in a mute scream, her walls milking him as she reached her peak.

With that, his body convulsed and shattered in a release so staggering in its intensity, he let out a guttural cry, declaring his complete and utter satisfaction…and ownership.

Little did he know, that while he was thinking, _She's mine._

She was thinking something more along the line of, _Oh God, what have I done._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Seriously, where is my underwear._

Elena scanned the floor, looking for any remains of her panties, all the while doing her very best not to look at _him_. Because he would look gorgeous. He would have that sparkle in his eyes. That sparkle that did her in every time. And she couldn't have that. She had to get out of there. She had to get back to her friends.

To her party.

To her sanity.

"Elena, can you stop for two seconds?" Damon rumbled from behind her. "We need to talk."

"I think we've _talked_ enough for one night, thank you!" she snarled, ignoring that tickle in her stomach at the sound of his deep voice. "And where in the hell is my underwear?"

"You mean this?"

She looked at him then, for the first time since she'd struggled out of his touch. He'd put his pants back on, but his chest was still exposed...and glistening with sweat...and she hated how that was the first thing she noticed. Especially since what she _should've_ noticed first was the red lace dangling from his finger.

"Give me that!"

He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. "Make me."

"Can you be serious for five seconds, please!"

He sighed, the smile dropping as he shoved the red fabric in his pocket. "Calm down, Elena."

"Easy for you to say!" she fumed. "I just had sex with my boyfriend's brother! A brother who, until about a month ago, I very much hated!"

"Hey," he sang. "You weren't exactly my favorite person in the world, either."

"So how the hell did we get here, Damon? How did you do it?"

His eyes narrowed into slithers. "How did _I_ do it?"

"Yes! How did you get me from hating your guts−"

"To screwing me in a library?"

She huffed, rubbing her forehead. "Oh, God, he's never going to forgive me for this."

"Forgive you?" he bit out. "Why would you _need_ him to forgive you?"

Damon could hear her heart speed up and, at once, he knew the answer to his own question.

"You're going back to him, aren't you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes when she whispered, "He loves me, Damon."

"So, you're just going to pretend that everything we've been doing here means nothing?"

"I don't know what it means."

_To you,_ she added in the privacy of her mind. Because when everything was said and done, she still didn't know where she stood with him. They'd had sex, yes. And it had been amazing, yes. But there had been no promises for the future. No whispered words of affection. Just primal, animalistic, mind-blowing sex.

"Damn it, Elena!" Damon yelled, grabbing his shirt of the floor. "We're back to this?"

"Back to what?"

"Back to you running away from me, from what you feel!"

"What _I_ feel? This coming from the _love is a trap_-guy!"

"And yet, I'm not the one bolting from the room!"

"I'm not bolting−"

"You don't want Stefan, Elena!"

"Oh, I don't?" she screamed, crossing her arms stubbornly.

His eyes darkened. "No! You're just scared of what's going on between us and he's your safe choice!"

"Don't pretend you know anything about me and Stefan, Damon!"

"I know he doesn't make you feel the way I make you feel!"

"Oh, please!"

"Don't deny it, sweetness. I felt it when I was inside of you."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "You arrogant bastard!"

"Annoying brat!"

"Screw you, Damon!"

"Why? You already took care of that!"

"Oh, my God!" she hissed, shaking her head. "I'm done talking!"

"Same here!" he hissed back.

"Good!"

"Good!"

"_**GOOD!"**_

They stood there, breathing heavily, glaring at each other, ready to rip each other's throats out. And then, in the space of a heartbeat, everything changed. Anger turned into a desire so profound it filled the room. Electricity crackled between them. In one swift move, he'd swooped her up against him, his lips crashing into hers, slanting into a scorching, possessive kiss that made her ache all over again. How could her body possibly want more? Need more? _Take_ more?

"You're driving me mad," he groaned into her mouth as he grabbed her hips and pulled her even closer. "You know that, don't you?"

His tongue slid inside her mouth again before she could answer, his hands pushing the filmy chiffon of her dress up her thighs.

"Barking mad," he growled, his warm breath moistening her lips. "And you do it on purpose, don't you? You want me like this. Out of control."

_Yes!_ She thought, suckling his tongue, tasting him, savoring him. The taste and smell and feel of him made her light headed. Biting his lower lip, she slipped her fingers under his shirt, feeling the muscles contract underneath her touch.

_Wait,_ her mind screamed when she felt him lick that sweet spot behind her ear. _I was going to do something. _

"This is how it will always be with me, Elena," he moaned, his hot breath on her neck. "With us."

_Yes, just like this. _

_Always. _

_You and me. _

Thoughts of the future and memories of the past all dimmed under his touch. _This_ was what she missed with Stefan. It wasn't just that he made her desire him; he made her feel like he needed her. Or something from her. And she was desperate to give him whatever he wanted.

_Wait._

_No._

Roughly, she tugged his hair, forcing his neck back so his lips no longer touched her skin. A move that felt _so_ unnatural.

"No," she breathed. "I'm not doing this. Not again."

He glanced up, eyes dark, nostrils flaring. "I'm not letting you go back to him!"

"Damon−"

"I can't ," he groaned, straightening up. "The thought of him touching you like _this_−" His hand slid up to the wet center of her need for him. "I can't stand it. You're mine, Elena."

"I'm not yours. I'm−"

She sucked in her breath when his fingers parted her, teasing and stroking her flesh, making her melt for him, until she was already on the verge of release. Again.

"You were saying?" he rumbled against her lips.

_Was I saying something?_

She threated her fingers through his hair, clutching it, using it as a lifeline. A lifeline she needed to get back to reality. _Her_ reality.

"Enough," she whimpered, her voice lacking the strength it needed to sound convincing.

"Enough?" he growled, feathering her jawline with kisses. "I don't think so, sweetness. Almost, but not yet."

"Da−"

His lips dropped to her neck.

To her collarbone.

To the path between her breast.

"Lie down, Elena," he growled, his thumb finding her clit. "Lie down so I can take you again."

She shook her head, although it was more a thrashing than a shake.

"You need it, Elena" he rasped, his lips resting on the pulse point in her neck. "Your body _needs_ it. Can't you feel it? How it's craving me?"

_Yes._

"Damon, please," she grated, feeling her insides tighten. "Stop."

He smiled a heated smile. "Once more with even less feeling."

He slipped his middle finger into her wetness, and she moaned, her hips moving to meet his frantic pace. His kisses became slow and devilish, his lips firm and carnal as he rubbed her insides faster, harder.

"Damon?" she gasped out, astonished she could still think straight.

"Yes, sweetness?"

"Do you remember that night in the Grill?"

"God, yes," he growled. "How could I forget? I wanted you just like this. Close. Warm. Wet."

_I wanted you, too._

"Do you remember the game?"

He nodded, retreating his finger only to plunge it back in with a friend. " You were amazing. You _are_ amazing."

"I won."

"Yes, you did."

"Do you remember my prize?"

His fingers froze inside of her, his kisses seizing their warpath down her chest.

"I can ask you anything and you have to do it, right? That was the prize?"

"Elena−"

"I'm collecting."

"No."

"If you're a man of your word, you'll let me go. Please."

She couldn't have said anything more convincing. His word was precious, not given easily and if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was the fact that he always kept his word. No matter how hard it was. And _this_ was beyond hard. This was nearly impossible. Growling, Damon shook his head and smiled, but on the inside, he was anything _but_ smiling. He was livid. Off all the women out there, he just had to have this one, didn't he? Off all the willing, uncomplicated, easy women, he just had to go for Elena Gilbert.

Cursing under his breath, he finally released her, stepping away from her trembling, unsatisfied body. "You're really bad for my ego, sweetness!"

"I'm sorry, Damon," she whispered in that soft voice that made letting go of her even harder. "I can't do this."

"You mean you _won't _do this, right?" he snarled. "You _can_, you just _won't_."

She shook her head, her eyes searching his for something he couldn't put his finger on.

"What do you want me to do, Damon?" she asked, her gaze deepening.

"I told you," he rumbled, his eyes dark again. "I want you to lie down."

"Do you want me to leave Stefan?"

His face turned serious then. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Why? You're kidding me, right?"

"Yeah, Damon," she sighed. "It's all just one big joke to me. Can't you tell?"

After a long hesitation, he took a deep, seemingly calming, breath and grabbed her hand, placing it over the bulge in his pants, almost spilling his seed again at the touch of her warm palm.

"That's why, Elena," he groaned, his voice hoarse, his blood pulsing painfully in his groin. "I want you. Desperately. In every which way. What more do you want?"

Her eyes turned soft then. But it wasn't a look filled with desire like before. There was something else slumbering in those brown depths. Something he couldn't quite define. All he knew was that there was suddenly way too much pain in her gaze.

Slowly, she removed her hand from his jeans and put it over his heart, her eyes dropping to where she touched him, a sad smile playing on her lips. "Nothing, Damon," she whispered, softly removing her fingers from his chest. "Absolutely nothing."

She walked away then and he didn't try to stop her.

Not this time.

Although every fiber in his being yearned to pull her back, to convince her to stay, to take her again and again until every thought of another man, every thought of leaving him would vanish into nothingness. But he knew the end result would be the same. When they would be done, when they would be spend, breathing heavily on the floor, they would be right back here. She would be angry at him, at herself and she would walk away just the same. He would never truly possess her…unless she came to him, first. Willingly. Driven by her own desire, not just his.

"Fine, you win, Elena," she heard him say when she reached for the doorknob. "I won't bother you again. No more kisses. No more repeats of what happened here. I'll back off."

She closed her eyes at his words, her insides screaming at her to run to him, to take it all back, to lie down on that floor.

But she couldn't.

She wouldn't.

Suddenly, he was closer behind her.

Close enough to feel his breath on her hair.

Close enough to smell.

"But you're going to find that you were wrong, Elena," he rumbled. "The longer you're away from me, the more you're going to find that you belong with me. And deep down, you know it. Deep down, you know I'm not the only one who got us to this point. You want me as bad as I want you, Elena."

_No, _she thought, fighting the urge to lean back and rest against him. _I want you more. Because I want all of you. Not just your body. I want your heart. Your soul. And you will never give me that. Which makes being with you like this, so close, so exposed, unbearable. _

"Goodbye, Damon."

"Until next time, Elena."

She opened the door, half expecting…and hoping…he'd do that _hand on the door_-thing again like he'd done the last time she tried to walk away.

But he didn't.

He just let her leave.

Back to her friends.

Back to Stefan.

Back to her resemblance of a normal life.

Her life without him.

She'd had one without Damon for almost seventeen years...so why did it seem unimaginable now?

* * *

**Hey guys! I know, it's a shorter chapter than usual, but there's more on the way! I've just been very busy and I didn't want you to wait for over a week to see how Elena and Damon were going to deal with the aftermath of what happened. Please, let me know what you think! **

**X me**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Jenna had always been a party girl. Liberated. Carefree. Responsible for no one but herself. And she loved it that way. She could come and go as she pleased. She could stay in bed all day. She could pick up a bag and leave for an adventure in another country. No one could stop her.

And in one instant, one fraction of a second, all that had changed. With one phone call, she'd stopped being Jenna and had become Aunt Jenna. The responsible one. The woman with two kids to look after, to provide for. And that scared the crap out of her. How was she supposed to make a life for them? Give them the structure they needed when her life never had any structure whatsoever? What if she screwed up?

What if she already had?

Jeremy was proving to be more than she could handle. He was angry, rebellious, hanging with the wrong crowd…and she understood why. If not for her niece and nephew she probably would've been dealing with her loss in the exact same way. But now, it was her job to help him out. To pull him back to who he used to be. But how?

So, with all that going on, Jenna had always been grateful for responsible, mature Elena. She didn't give her any trouble, any reason to worry. Until recently.

Leaning back in her chair, Jenna watched Elena skewer a piece of broccoli on her fork, playing with it for a while before dropping it back on her plate. The carrots would be next. And then the French fries. Jenna knew this, because her niece had been repeating that same routine for the entire length of their dinner, never taking her eyes of her plate, never dropping that pensive gaze.

"OK," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Enough."

Elena looked up, smiling. "What?"

"Don't do that, Elena. I know that fake smile. I've seen it before, remember."

Her niece's smile dropped and Jenna could almost see the memories pass her eyes. The funeral. The people shaking her hand. Going back to school and pretending she was OK.

"Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart."

"Nothing's wrong," Elena said, trying to make it sound convincing. "I'm just in a bad mood."

"For a month now?"

Elena frowned, dropping her fork and her eyes with it.

"You haven 't been yourself since your party, Elena. Why do you think I've brought you here? To your favorite restaurant, without Jeremy? It's time you talk to me, because I'm seriously getting worried."

"There's no reason to worry."

"You're a beautiful, seventeen year old girl and you've spent the last month locked away inside the house."

"I just haven't had anything to do with Stefan gone."

And that was the truth. Well, the partial truth. Stefan was really out of town, helping this Lexie-girl. He hadn't given her the details, but from what she'd understood Lexie had fallen in love with a human, had turned him and now, he was having difficulties getting his craving for human blood under control. She needed Stefan to help him through it.

So that part was true.

But the thing she couldn't tell her aunt, the thing she couldn't tell anyone, was that she was afraid.

Of herself.

With Stefan gone, the reasons she was staying away from Damon were getting fuzzier and she was terrified that the second she set foot outside her house, she would find herself at his door.

"And Bonnie? Or Caroline?" he aunt continued. "Are they out of town, too?"

_No, they just wouldn't understand._

_And Bonnie would bring Damon up._

_And Caroline would see something was wrong and wouldn't stop until she found out the truth._

"Jenna, I really don't want to talk about it."

"So, there is something to talk about! I knew it!"

"Ssshhh!" Elena shushed when a waiter glanced their way. "You're acting like a lunatic."

"I'm just happy I didn't screw you up and that you're not becoming some brooding teenager who hates the world for no reason."

"No, I have a reason. Glad that makes you happy."

Her smile dropped. "Elena, I know I'm not your mother, but you _can_ talk to me."

"Oh, God," Elena yelped. "I never would've talked to mom about this. She would've been so disappointed."

Elena's heart ached at that.

Elena's heart ached all the time lately.

"Is it drugs?" Jenna asked, distracting her momentarily from the sting inside.

"No."

"Drinking?"

"No."

"Are you pregnant?"

She gasped. "No! Seriously, is that what you think of me?"

"Not at all, but I can't think of anything else that could've possibly disappointed my sister, Elena."

"How about her daughter being a cheater? Wouldn't that have done the trick?"

It had been out of her mouth and into the open before she could stop it and now, there was no taking it back. Jenna had heard her loud and clear. She could tell by the shock on her face. Could she still spin it? Act like it was a joke? Pretend like she hadn't meant it? And did she want to? She knew Jenna wouldn't betray her trust, she wouldn't breath a word about this to anyone. So maybe Elena should confide in her. Maybe she should get it all out, because the lies, the hurt were starting to eat her alive. She should get this of her chest and who better to vent to than her aunt.

"You cheated on Stefan?" Jenna asked.

Elena made a decision and nodded.

"Are we talking about a kiss or−"

One look from her niece told her everything she needed to know.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Elena sighed. "Oh."

"What happened?"

"_He_ happened."

"And _he_ is?"

Elena shook her head and Jenna took the hint and moved on.

"Was it just a onetime thing?"

"Yes. No. I mean, we've only had actual sex once."

"_Actual_ sex? What does that mean?"

Elena covered her eyes in embarrassment. "This is just too weird."

"What is?"

"Talking to you about this."

"Come on, Elena. I'm your cool aunt Jenna."

Elena laughed, her eyes lighting up for a split second. "Promise me you'll never say that again, Jenna."

"It made you laugh, didn't it?"

She smiled, nodding, but by the time the nod was over, the smile had already dropped again.

"You should tell Stefan, Elena," Jenna said in a serious voice again.

"What if he hates me?"

"There's a really good change he will."

She glared at her aunt. "Thanks for the encouragement."

"There's also a really good chance he'll realize you're only human and that you just made a mistake."

"But what if it wasn't a mistake?" she blurted out without thinking it through. Hell, if she was going to talk to Jenna about this, she was going to _talk_. No holding back. No hiding. She was getting everything out in the open.

"What do you mean?" Jenna asked, tilting her head.

"I know it was a mistake. But it didn't feel like one. I feel _so _bad for Stefan. I mean, the guilt kills me."

"But?"

Elena closed her eyes and as always when she did so, he was there.

His face.

His eyes.

His smile.

"Elena? But?"

She snapped out of it, pinching her nose. "But when I'm with _him_, he consumes me. He crawls under my skin and he fills this hole that I didn't even know was there. And since we slept together, I can't get him out. I can't shake him. He's there constantly. In my head. In my heart. In my every pore. I−"

"−love him," Jenna finished, her eyes wide.

Elena shook her head, sighing. "No. But I'm a breath away from it. And I know, I feel, that if I let go, if I stop fighting, if I give in, I'll love him more than I thought I could ever love anyone."

"So, why _don't_ you give in? People wait their entire lives to feel that way about someone. Why do you fight it?"

"Because he will never love me back," she whispered. "And that kills me. But I can't change it. And Stefan's kind, he loves me, he will always do right by me."

"Elena," Jenna said, shaking her head. "You're way too young to already start compromising."

"Stefan is not a compromise. I _do _love him."

"Maybe. But you should've seen your face when you talked about that other guy. You lid up."

"It doesn't matter."

Jenna took a sip from her red wine, keeping her eyes on her niece, wishing once again that Miranda was there. Elena needed her mother. She'd always been better at this kind of stuff. Jenna had never been on this side of the conversation before. She was usually the one with boy trouble and her sister was the one who fixed it.

Just by listening.

By letting her talk through it.

Right.

"So," Jenna said, deciding her course of action. "Why do you think he will never love you back?"

"Because he's shut off. And I can't blame him. He's been through a lot."

"So have you."

"Not like him."

Jenna smiled into her glass.

"What?"

"You're making excuses for him."

"So?"

"So, I've been there and I hate to tell you, but you're screwed."

Her niece's eyes dropped again, a deep frown wrinkling her forehead.

"And you're really not going to tell me who this mystery guy is?"

She shook her head again.

"Are you going to tell Stefan?"

"I don't know."

"Don't you think you should?"

"I don't know."

"Or at least talk to this other guy about how you feel?"

"I don't know."

"Or−"

"I don't know, Jenna! OK? I don't know anything anymore! And I used to be so together! I had it all figured out! And then he comes along and makes me question everything! My life! Who I am! My believes!"

"That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"I never said it was."

Jenna smiled and say on her niece's face that the conversation was over. She'd had enough and she didn't want to push her. So instead, she said, "How about I get the check?"

"How about we get dessert first? Something really decadent. Preferably with a lot of chocolate."

"Sure," Jenna said, glad Elena wasn't itching to get away from her after their heart to heart. "We can do that."

* * *

"I ate way too much."

Elena smiled, rubbing her own tummy. "We shouldn't have had those Truffle Tarts."

"Blasphemy!" Jenna snickered, changing gears.

Elena laughed, watching the rain trickle down her window. Dark clouds were gathering above the road. There was a thunderstorm coming.

_He loves thunderstorms._

"What just happened?"

"What?"

"Your face did that sad-thing again."

"Did it?"

"Yeah, it did," Jenna said, glancing at her from the corner of her eye. "Is there anywhere you want me to drop you off?"

Elena frowned. "Home would be great."

"Are you sure?"

"Where else−" It dawned on her then. "Oh…no."

"Elena, I know I shouldn't be promoting cheating, but not seeing him seems to make you unhappy."

"Yes, but−"

"I know, I know. He'll never love you back, he's emotionally shut off and so on and so on. But why don't you give him the benefit of the doubt? I think you're underestimating your own allure."

"My allure?" she giggled, rubbing her sweaty palms over her jeans. "I have allure?"

Jenna laughed, shaking her head. "Call him. Tell him you're coming over to talk."

"Yeah, see, him and me have this tendency to start off talking and end up−"

"Got it!" Jenna cut her off. "No more sex stories from the girl whose diapers I changed."

Elena snickered. "What happened to cool aunt Jenna?"

"I left her on the parking lot."

"Good call."

"Talking about calls−" Jenna said, giving her a meaningful look.

Swallowing hard, Elena pulled her cellphone from her pocket and dialed his number. She wasn't surprised to find she knew it by heart.

She paused before pressing the call-button and said, "If I do this and I go to see him, you have to promise you'll wait for me in the car. Give me a reason to come back out of his house."

"Deal."

"OK," she whispered, pushing the little green button. "Here goes."

* * *

_Who the hell does she think she is?_

Snarling, Damon's fist shot out, cracking a tile in his shower.

The black stone wasn't the first thing that had felt Damon's wrath. In one month's time, he'd been forced to buy a new nightstand, a new mirror, a new bedroom door and several crystal glasses. And it was all thanks to _her_. To the woman he couldn't stop thinking about, no matter how hard he tried.

And man, did he _try_.

But she was always there. In ever line from his favorite book. In every dream, alone in is bed. In every, single, fucking thought. She was there. And he had no idea how to get her out.

Growling, he rested his head against the cold stone and let the hot water flow over his naked body. A body that _ached_.

For her.

A body that still remembered how she'd felt against it.

How it had felt inside of her. Warm. Safe. Desired.

God, what he wouldn't give to have her here, with him. In his shower. Kissing her, melting his tongue with hers and feeling her fighting his dominance, feeling her push back.

She liked it that way. For it to be a fight.

Even when he'd had her pinned against that bookcase, moving inside of her, she'd still fought his power, trying to force her own rhythm on him. And he'd loved it. Elena Gilbert wasn't just another girl who'd lie down and take it. She fought back. And he found himself giving in.

On his own terms, of course.

If she wanted it slow, it would be so slow she could hardly stand it. If she wanted it hard, he would thrust until she begged him to stop. Or until her breaths grew shallow and she moaned, trembling in his arms, tightening around−

Another tile cracked.

_Enough! She's just a girl!_

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind or he knew it was the biggest lie he'd ever told himself. And he'd told _many_ lies to sooth the flicker of a conscience that still remained hidden beneath the surface.

Gnarling, Damon dressed, the moonlight illuminating his large, empty room. A room he used to love, but now only reminded him of what he was missing. The girl who belonged here, with him.

The trees outside swayed in the wind and rain, their branches tapping his repaired window. It was a scary sound, but not to someone much more scary. Frowning, he moved to close the curtains, but halted when he saw a dark shadow move up to the driveway. A shadow he recognized. But she couldn't be here. Could she?

In a fraction of a second, he was downstairs, flinging the door open, staring into two brown eyes he hadn't seen in way too long.

"Elena." His voice was a whisper and yet filled with emotion. Too much emotion for his taste.

"Hi," she said, curling her pink lips in that way only she could. That way that made his chest tighten.

"Can I come in?" she asked, tugging nervously at the hem of her red top.

To Damon, that was the most ridiculous question he'd ever been asked in a hundred and seventy-plus years.

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

When she pushed past him, a breeze entered with her, tussling her hair, making her smell even thicker than it already was. At once, he could feel his fangs push against his lip. But he couldn't have that. He couldn't get too intense. He couldn't scare her away. Not when he'd just got her back.

But she looked _so_ good.

And her scent was _so_ pure, _so_ amazing. Not a trace of perfume…just her.

The veins around his eyes started to throb and then, he remembered one very important thing.

He didn't _have_ to breath.

It was just something he did so humans wouldn't notice he was different. And it had become routine. But he didn't _need_ oxygen. He didn't _need_ to inhale her.

Softy, he closed the door, stilling his chest and at once, her scent left him…and he could pull himself together.

However, when he turned and saw her in front of his fireplace, staring into the flames, her arms wrapped around herself, he realized it wasn't just her scent that pulled at his strings.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this," she said, her back still turned to him. "I know it's been a month."

"Thirty-five days, actually. But who's counting."

Her back straightened for a second before she said, "I should've called first. I wanted to, but−"

_Called first? What is _wrong_ with this woman?_

"It's fine," he said, sitting down on his couch, watching her. "Is something wrong?"

Her back rocked a little, her wet hair tickling her neck.

"Is something wrong?" she repeated, a hysterical note to her voice. "The question is, is something right?"

"Yes."

It had been an automatic response, one he hadn't had time to think through. One he couldn't take back. She'd already turned, a thousand questions in her despairing eyes.

"What then?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What's right about this situation? Please tell me because I can't see it, Damon."

Shaking his head, he got up, gently cupping her face. She tried to pull away, but he kept her in place, forcing her eyes on his.

"Don't you know, Elena?" he whispered, frowning. "_This_ is right. _This_. Right here. You and me."

A tear slither down from her thick lashes, the salty drop running over Damon's hand. "Don't cry, sweetheart."

She closed her eyes, more tears trickling down. "Damon−"

"Shhhhhhh," he breathed, his thumbs softly stroking her skin. "It's OK. I'm here."

Swiftly, he leaned down, taking her lips between his. Sweetly. Gently. _Really_ tasting her for the first time. Savoring her. Relishing in those sparks that exploded in his chest. This wasn't just another kiss. This was _the_ kiss. _The_ kiss that made everything crystal clear. Suddenly, a heath enveloped him, a heath he hadn't felt since he was human. He knew what it was, what it meant, but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet.

"Elena," he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. "Don't ever leave me again. I missed you. "

Softly, Elena placed her hands over Damon's, peeling them from her cheeks.

When she stepped out of his reach, her eyes dropped.

"Damon," she said, rubbing her forehead. "I came to tell you that you were right."

"Aren't I always?"

She ignored him. "You were right when you said that I want you. Bad."

He smiled at that, taking a step towards her. But she backed up, keeping more space between them than he liked.

"What's the problem then?" he asked, something unnerving crawling to the surface.

"Stefan," she said. "The problem is Stefan."

Damon grinned. "He's not a problem, Elena. He'll be upset at first, but he'll get over it eventually once he sees that we're a perfect match and−"

"The problem is that I love him, Damon. And I'm not leaving him for a good fuck."

Now, Damon had been to battle many times when he was human. He had the scares on his back to prove it. And as a vampire he'd been stabbed, shot, staked, buried, poisoned and set on fire more times than he cared to remember. But nothing, _nothing_, had ever hurt more than hearing Elena Gilbert say those words to him, hearing the venom in her otherwise sweet voice.

"It was fun," she continued, twisting the knife in even deeper. "And I really _do_ want more repeats of that library-episode, badly, but let's be honest, Damon. We both knew it would end this way."

"I didn't," he said, swallowing back the sudden lump in his throat.

She just looked at him. No more tears in her eyes. No more pain. No more sadness. Just resolve.

"Oh, come on, Damon," she said. "What did you think was going to happen here? That we'd ride off into the sunset together? That I'd leave Stefan for you? Come on! He's _Stefan_! And you're−" her eyes ran over him. "−you."

"Elena," he snarled. "You're just scared of what's−"

"−going on between us," she finished, rolling her eyes. "Really, Damon, you're already repeating yourself. God, I can just imagine how boring an eternity with you would be."

He just stood there. His feet glued to the floor. His legs unable to move. His cold, dead heart shattering.

"It will always be Stefan, Damon."

Katherine's words. Coming out of Elena's mouth. And it was definitely Elena. There was no question about that. The girl in front of him had a heartbeat. A distinct smell. And yet, she was acting exactly like the first woman he'd foolishly let inside.

"Get out." He didn't even recognize his own voice anymore.

"OK, but just so you know, I'm going to tell Stefan what happened. And he's going to forgive me. Or not. Either way, I want you gone."

"Excuse me?" he hissed

"I want you out of my town, Damon. Out of my life. All you are is a constant reminder of the biggest mistake I ever made."

"What happened wasn't a mistake, Elena!"

"Yes, it was!"

"No!"

"Then what would you call it, Damon? Lust?"

"No!"

"Envy? Wanting what your brother has?"

"No, I told you!"

"Foolishness?"

"No!"

"Then what, Damon!"

"Love!" he screamed, "I'd call it love!"

Damon's eyes snapped open, his breaths coming out ragged, sweat trickling down his forehead and onto his soaked pillow. Cursing, he sat up, throwing of the wet sheets, cradling his face in his hands, shaking his head.

_Love! I'd call it love!_

"Ridiculous," he snarled, getting out of his bed. "It was just a nightmare. It doesn't mean anything."

_Sure._

The cellphone on his nightstand vibrated and when he saw the name on the screen, he felt like he started vibrating, too.

_Elena._

His thumb lingered over the answer-button, but he couldn't make himself pick up. He couldn't hear her sweet voice. Not yet. Not after _that_.

*Ignore*

Never had pressing a simple button felt so wrong.

* * *

Elena's heart sped up with ever ring of her cellphone. She was going to hear his voice again and she hadn't quite realized how much she'd been missing that voice until that very moment, in Jenna's car, in the middle of the worst storm that had hit Mystic Falls in ages, waiting for him to answer.

But he never answered.

"What's wrong?" Jenna asked, glancing at her.

"Voicemail," Elena said, listening to the electronic voice.

When the beep came, Elena wasn't sure what to say, so she just said,

"Hi, Damon. It's me. Elena Gilbert."

_Like he doesn't know your last name! Idiot!_

"I just wanted to−"

_Wanted to what? What exactly do you want? Great, now you've created an awkward pause. It's going good so far!_

"−hear how you're doing."

_Hear how you're doing? Really, Elena?_

Sighing, she shook her head, feeling like a complete moron. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I−"

A black shadow doomed up in the middle of the flooded road, in the middle of their path.

"Jenna, look out!"

The sound of breaking glass and metal echoed through the night.

With no one around to hear.

Well, no one but the dark figure that had caused it all.

A dark figure that was now moving.

Towards the car.

Towards the women inside.

One in particular.

* * *

**I know, I know, no (real) DELENA ACTION, but I really needed this chapter to give you (and myself) a little insight in where Damon and Elena are emotionally. I warned you guys I'm a realistic, build-up girl! I hope you still love the story and please, bear with me. It's going to get good :p :p! Let me know what you think! X**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Stefan?"

Carefully, Elena pushed the large wooden door open, entering the Salvatore Boarding House.

"Stefan?" she called out again, walking further into his home.

She'd never been in Stefan's house before, but she'd imagined what it would look like more than once. However, not even in her wildest fantasies had she ever been close to the reality. She didn't even know houses like this still existed. Everything was huge. Old. Amazing. And that fireplace…

She was right in the middle of another step forward, when a creaking noise behind her made her turn.

The door.

Had it been open before?

Frowning, she advanced, but for some reason, the closer she got to the door, the faster her heart started beating. She wanted to call out Stefan's name again, but fear made her mute.

_Don't be ridiculous, Elena,_ she thought. _There's nothing scary in Mystic−_

A raven flew in, shrieking, causing her to stumble back.

Panicking, she turned…almost bumping into _him_.

A man she'd never seen before.

A man with the most beautiful, bright blue eyes she'd ever come across in her entire life.

Bright, blue eyes that made her heart flutter.

Silently, he tipped his head to the side, his black hair feathering his cheek as he gazed at her in a way no one had ever gazed at her. Intense. Too intense.

"I'm−I'm sorry for barging in," Elena stuttered, his nearness making her knees weaken. "The door was−" She turned and stared bewildered at the closed entrance. "−open."

_She _was _open, right?_ She thought, focusing on him again.

He was still staring at her, not saying a single word. Just watching her. His blue eyes flickering between her brown ones. Why did that simple move give her goose bumps?

"You must be Elena," he said, finally breaking the silence.

His voice was amazing. Deep. Seductive. Smooth. It made her think of warm, melting chocolate for some strange reason.

"I'm Damon," he continued, a smile playing on his lips. "Stefan's brother."

"He didn't tell me he had a brother," she said, ignoring how his eyes had dropped to her lips for a split second.

"Well, Stefan's not one to brag."

She pushed back a smile.

"Please, come," he said, gesturing her to follow him deeper into the house. "I'm sure Stefan will be along any second."

"Wow," Elena laughed when they descended the steps. ""This is your living room?"

"Living room, parlor, Sotheby's auction. It's a little kitschy for my taste."

Elena smiled again. Stefan's brother had her sense of humor. Not that Stefan wasn't funny…

"I see why my brother's so smitten."

Her eyes flung from the couch to the dark stranger beside her. He had a different look in his eyes now. A darker one. With a glint in it that made her insides tighten.

"It's about time," he continued. "For a while there I never thought he'd get over the last one. _Nearly_ destroyed him."

Elena frowned. "The last one?"

"Yeah, Katherine. His girlfriend?"

She bit her lip.

"Oh, you two haven't had the awkward exes conversation yet."

She looked away from him, shaking her head. "Nope."

"Oops, well, I'm sure it will come up now. Or maybe he didn't want to tell you, because he didn't want you to think he's on the rebound. We all know how _those_ relationships end."

Elena cocked an eyebrow. "You say it like every relationship is doomed to end."

"I'm a fatalist." He shrugged, his blue eyes piercing hers. "Hello, Stefan."

Startled, Elena looked away from Damon only to find Stefan standing in the hallway, watching them.

"Elena," he said, his voice low, no trace of emotion in it. "Didn't know you were coming over."

"I know," she said. "I should've call, I just−"

"Oh, don't be silly," Damon cut in. "You're welcome anytime, isn't she Stefan."

Stefan didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge her presence. He just glared at his older brother, a darkness in his eyes she'd never seen before.

"You know, I should break out the family photo album," Damon broke the heavy silence, his voice still light and playful. "Or some home movies. But I have to warn you, he wasn't always such a looker."

Elena smiled, something that made Stefan snap out of his angry glare.

"Thank you for stopping by, Elena," he said, never making eye contact. "Nice to see you."

_See me? You've barely looked at me!_

"Yeah," she said, frowning. "I should probably go."

Confused, she faced the only seemingly normal Salvatore in the room and said, "It was nice to meet you, Damon."

As if his smile, eyes and raven-black hair weren't heart stopping enough at that point, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her prickling skin, his blue gaze never leaving her. "Great meeting you too, Elena."

His cocky smile and warm touch vanished into thin air. So did the soothing heath that had filled her entire being at the memory. The memory of her first encounter with the man who would forever change her life. And all of that was replaced by pain.

Lots and lots of pain.

_What happened?_ She thought, the taste of blood prominent on her tongue.

Dazed, Elena opened her eyes.

She could see the car in front of her, lying upside down in the middle of the road, and in a flash, everything came rushing back. The shadow. The rain. The crash.

_Oh, God. Jenna. _

She tried to focus her vision, but it was too dark. She couldn't see if her aunt was still in the driver's seat.

And it didn't help that for some reason the freaking car was moving further and further away from her.

No wait.

The _car_ wasn't moving.

_She_ was.

Whimpering, she looked behind her and saw a large man hauling her away from the wreckage.

"Stop," she cried. "Please, my aunt's still in there. Get her out first."

The man behind her laughed and jerked her around so she could get a better look at him. That's when she realized he wasn't a man at all. And he was definitely not saving her.

"You did this," she cried, glancing at his bared fangs.

He smiled a cold, evil smile, running a hand through his blond, slicked back hair. "And you're not scared."

"It's not my first time around a vampire," she said, trying to keep her voice strong. After all, as Stefan had once told her, vampires thrive on fear. Blood is just a bonus. And she'd be damned if she gave this monster what he wanted.

"Mmmm," he rumbled, his nose dipping to her neck. "And you smell amazing."

She could feel his fangs scraping her neck, but instead of begging for her life like her every instinct was screaming to do, she raised her chin stubbornly and said, "Thank you."

He pulled back at that, that smile still on his lips. "I like you."

"I wish I could say the same."

"You're feisty. Too bad I have to kill you."

Her heart skipped a beat and she was sure he'd noticed. She could tell by the smile on his face.

"No one's holding a gun to your head," she said, her voice shaking. "You could just let me go."

"Even if I could, it's not in my nature."

"Isn't it?"

"No," he exclaimed, veins appearing around his eyes. "I'm a vampire, remember."

"So?"

"So?" he huffed. "What kind of vampires have you been around?"

"The kind that will rip _your_ head off if you hurt one hair on_ mine_."

"Is that so?"

"You can count on it."

Grinning, he grabbed her curls and pulled, ripping out more than just _one_ hair. Elena screamed, tears stinging her eyes.

"Well, what do you know," he said. "Head still firmly attached."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, her heart now thumping out of control.

"That's it," he growled, grabbing her shoulders tighter. "Now, scream for me."

With one brutal shove, her head was slanted to the side, leaving her neck exposed. And he took advantage of that. Before she could make a−probably weak and futile−attempt to escape, his fangs sank into her flesh and she did exactly what he'd wanted her to do. She screamed her lunges out.

And then the pain faded away.

Black spots appeared in front of her eyes.

Her limbs felt like they were no longer part of her body.

It was as if she was slowly falling into a deep sleep.

And in her sleep, she dreamed about a voice calling something out. Something like, "_Don't worry, we've called nine-one-one."_

And then, right before she lost consciousness completely, she felt something being pulled out of her neck and her body hit the ground, hard.

* * *

_Oh, for God's sake, it's been over three hours! Just listen to it!_

Glaring at the little device on the table, Damon emptied his crystal glass in one gulp.

_Damn it, you're over a hundred and seventy years old! Listen to the damned voicemail!_

Huffing, Damon got up, helping himself to another generous portion of scotch. Even though deep down, he knew. He knew no amount of scotch would help him forget her, would make him stop feeling the way he did about that fragile, human girl. And, more importantly, he knew no amount of scotch would bring her back to him. She'd made a choice. And after thirty-five days it was pretty clear she hadn't choses him. That's what was on his voicemail. He was sure of it. It was her modern Dear John-letter, her final goodbye.

_So, just listen and be done with it! _

"OK, enough!" he snarled, scotch in hand. "I'm not some wimpy human! I'm a fucking vampire!"

Taking a gulp of liquid courage, he snatched his cell from the table and pressed the button he'd been fearing to press.

"Hi, Damon."

She still said his name in that way no one else had ever done. No trace of fear. Or disgust. Or anger. Not even seduction. It was just…sweet.

_Not a good start._

"It's me," she continued. "Elena Gilbert."

He smiled at that. She was nervous.

"I just wanted to−"

She trailed off and Damon closed his eyes during the silence that followed, relishing in the last moments he had with her…even if it was just over the phone. Because this was it. She was looking for the right words to tell him he was never going to hold her again. Kiss her again.

"−hear how you're doing."

_Wait. What? _

And then it hit him. This wasn't a goodbye call.

She sighed on the other end of the line and he could stake himself for not picking up the fucking phone.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

_Oh, Elena, no._

"I shouldn't have called. I−"

She didn't finish her sentence. But what he heard next _did_ finish _him_.

"Jenna!" she screamed, the fear in her voice ripping his heart out. "Look out!"

The last thing he heard before the phone went dead and he ran off into the night was the sound of shattering glass and a scream that would haunt him until the day death finally caught up with him.

* * *

"Elena?"

Every nurse, doctor and patient in the white, sterile hallway looked at Damon as he kicked open the door and pushed his way through the hospital.

His face was red.

His nostrils were flaring.

His eyes were desperately scanning the area, looking for that one girl.

And it took every ounce of strength from him to not vamp out and just kill everyone who stood in his way. Like the woman in the white lab coat who wasn't smart enough to leave him alone.

"Sir," she said. "Can I help you?"

"Elena?" he screamed again, his voice dripping murder.

"Sir, maybe−"

"Elena?" he bellowed, ignoring her. "Elena?"

She was there. He was sure of it. He'd tracked her scent all the way from the car wreckage to this hospital and he could smell her even now. Whatever had happened to her…there had been a lot of blood.

He stopped, his muscles screaming in protest, and took a deep breath.

_Higher._

Two broad security guards grabbed his arms, but he shrugged them off like flies and kicked in the door that read _Stairs_.

He went up flight after flight until her scent overwhelmed his senses.

"Elena?" he screamed again, entering the seventh floor.

He immediately knew he was in the right place. The dark-skinned girl that came stalking up to him pretty much guaranteed that.

"Where is she, Bonnie!" he snarled, meeting her halfway.

"You shouldn't be here, Damon! You−"

A deep growl rose up from his chest and before he could think it through, before he could take into account that he was in a crowded hospital and Bonnie was Elena's best friend, he grabbed the witch's neck and lifted her from the floor.

"**Where. Is. She?**" he screamed, emphasizing every word by tightening his fingers around her throat.

"Damon?"

It was like her voice had pushed some _off_-button on his body, because suddenly, his every muscle relaxed and his anger just _faded_.

Blinking wildly, he dropped Bonnie and started towards the girl at the other end of the hall, the girl who was moving towards him, too, a shocked look on her face.

When they finally reached each other, there was no exchange of words, there was no slowing down. Elena just flung her arms around his neck and he caught her, squeezing her way too tight. But she didn't object, even though her feet dangled inches above the floor.

Holding on to her for dear life, he buried his noise in her hair, breathing her in.

"You're here," she whimpered against his neck, her hot breath warming his skin.

"I'm so sorry," he growled, his fingers digging into her waist. "I'm so sorry, Elena."

"What for?"

"I should've been there. If I'd picked up−"

Her arms tightened around his neck. "Don't, Damon. It's not your fault. You shouldn't be at my every beck and call."

He let go of her then, cupping her face in his hands and once again, her beauty overwhelmed him. Especially those big, brown, teary eyes.

"I am, though," he said softly. "If you need me, I'll be there, Elena. I won't fail you again."

"Damon," she whispered, placing her tiny hand on his broad chest. "You didn't fail me."

He ground his teeth at that, running his thumb over the cut by her eyebrow. "You're hurt."

"Yeah," she whimpered, closing her eyes against the sting. "It's just a few bruises and cuts. I got off easy."

A tear trickled down.

"What's wrong?" he asked, wiping the drop from her nose.

"Jenna," she sobbed, more tears escaping her eyes. "She's in surgery, but no one will tell me what's going on."

"We'll see about that," he snarled, anger roaring to life again.

_No one_ made her cry.

Furious, he grabbed her hand and led her to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me," Damon gnarled at the first nurse he saw. Some pretty blond. Wearing way too much make-up.

"Oh, hi," she sang, doing that thing all women did when they saw Damon Salvatore for the first time. Her eyes softened. Her head tilted. And she started touching her hair.

But he wasn't interested. Not anymore.

"Can you tell me how Jenna−" he trailed off, turning back to Elena. "What's her last name?"

"Sommers," she answered, squeezing his hand tighter. "Jenna Sommers.

The nurse's eyes hardened as she finally noticed Elena. "Like I told you before, I can't tell you unless you're family."

"I'm her niece!" Elena hissed, that spunk he loved so much in her voice.

"Yes, but you're also under age. Maybe your parents−"

"My parents are dead!" she screamed, fuming. "Now you better tell me how my aunt is doing or I swear to God−"

Her grip on his hand weakened as she stumbled backwards, her free hand rubbing her forehead.

In a flash, he grabbed her waist, forcing her eyes on his.

"Elena?" he said, worried.

She smiled, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

Damon had forgotten all about Bonnie.

"She's not?" he asked, glaring at the witch.

"She lost a lot of blood," Bonnie said like Elena wasn't standing right there. "She's had multiple blood transfusions over the last two hours and she _should_ be resting."

Damon turned his glare to the girl who was still swaying on her feet. "Is that true?"

Elena avoided his eyes, shrugging.

"She needs to get her ass back into a bed," Bonnie ordered.

"I really hate to say this," Damon growled. "But she's right."

"No!" Elena cut him off. "Not until I know how Jenna's doing!"

Cursing under his breath, Damon ran a hand through his dark hair and snarled, "OK, if I find out what's going on with Jenna, do you promise to get some rest?"

She sighed in defeat, nodding as Damon tucked a curl behind her ear, casting her a relieved smile.

Bonnie shot a confused glance between her best friend and the vampire, but before she could think about what was going on right in front of her, Damon turned away and talked in a low, hypnotizing voice to the nurse. A nurse who was now staring at him was a blank expression, her mouth moving on its own, giving him every answers he needed.

He was compelling her.

And he was doing it right in the open.

For someone other than himself.

He was taking a huge risk…for _Elena_.

"Huh."

* * *

Jenna was pretty much OK. The impact from the crash had broken some of her ribs and one of them had punctured her lung, causing it to collapse. But everything was fine now. The bone shard had been removed and her lung was repaired. All she had to do now was stay in the hospital for a few days for observation and then she could come home. So Jenna was safe.

What couldn't be said for Elena.

For the tenth time that morning, she glanced at Damon from the corner of her eyes, watching him keep his gaze focused angrily on the road, his fingers tight around the wheel. He wasn't happy with her. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong! She'd promised to rest, yes, but she'd never promised to rest _in the hospital_.

"Don't be angry with me, Damon," she whispered, hating that he was ignoring her.

"I'm not angry."

She huffed. "Liar."

A little smiled pulled at his lips, but it dropped instantly.

"He's my brother, Damon," she pleaded once again. "I can't let him wake up to an empty house to find his only remaining family hospitalized after yet another car accident."

He understood that. But he didn't care. He didn't care about Jeremy. Just her.

"The _second,"_ he snarled, keeping his eyes on the road. "And I do mean, _the second_, you feel something's wrong, you tell me, Elena."

"Fine."

"No, not _fine_!" he hissed, finding her eyes now. "Swear to me!"

She nodded, swallowing hard under his gaze. "I swear, Damon."

He kept his blue eyes glued to hers for a few seconds and Elena couldn't push back a smile when she saw his gaze soften.

"Don't do that."

She frowned. "Do what?"

"Smile like that."

"Like what."

"Like Elena."

Her cheeks blossomed into a deep, cherry red.

"Well, at least that blood they gave you is doing what it's supposed to be doing," he said, without looking at her.

He didn't need to look. He could feel from where he was sitting that her cheeks had heated up.

A few drops fell from the heavens and at once, he could feel something else. Her heart speeding up.

"Don't worry," Damon said, his voice soothing. "Unlike your aunt, _I_ have vampire reflexes. The world has to end for me to crash this car."

"She didn't crash the car."

"I'm not saying it was her fault, I'm just saying−"

"No," she cut in. "I mean−"

_Time and place, Elena._

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Liar."

She smiled. "I'll tell you when we're home."

"Why not tell me now?"

"Because you're moving at the speed of light," she said, grinning. "And the house is right there."

He shook his head, parking right in front of the Gilbert house.

When she moved to get out of the car, he snarled, "Don't move an inch."

Before she could blink, he was opening her door, offering her his hand.

"A gentleman," she sang, secretly grateful for his help. Because the truth was that she _did_ still feel weak.

"I've been called many things, Elena," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "But never gentleman."

"That's probably because you don't let people see you, Damon."

He frowned, heading for the front door. "That's just the blood loss talking."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"Do you know where your keys are, too, miss know-it-all?"

She reached in her purse, retrieving the metal keychain.

"God, I'm glad to be home," she sighed, stretching in the middle of her hallway. When she swayed a little, she realized he wasn't there to steady her anymore.

Shocked, she turned, watching him stand in the doorframe, his hands placed against an invisible wall between him and her hallway.

"Working on your mime-act?" she joked.

But then, she noticed the sad look on his face and her heart just sank.

"I can't come in," he said softly. "I'm−"

"−not invited."

He nodded, his eyes piercing hers.

"Right," she mumbled, watching him.

Not so long ago, inviting Damon Salvatore into her home had been on the bottom of her TO DO-list. Way, way, way on the bottom. Right below _getting a tongue-piercing _and_ throwing myself of a cliff_.

But now, watching Damon take a step back from her door, _not_ inviting him in seemed impossible.

"I get it," he mumbled, his eyes dropping to his hands. "I'll stay out here. If you need me−"

"Come in, Damon."

His eyes flung back to hers. "What?"

She smiled at his stunned expression. "You heard me. Now, are you coming in or−"

The door was slammed shut before she could finish her question.

"OK," she said, walking to the kitchen. "Jeremy's going to wake up soon, so I should probably make him some breakfast. Or coffee, which is really the only thing I can make. Or maybe−"

Suddenly, she was on the couch, Damon towering over her.

"What you need to do is rest, Gilbert."

"But Jeremy−"

"Is a teenager and won't be up until noon. Now, close your eyes, Elena."

"Yeah," she yawned. "Like I could sleep."

Blinking, she rubbed her eyes, resting her head on the soft cushion.

"But if it will make _you_ feel better, I'll be happy to close my eyes for a second."

"You're too kind," Damon whispered, hearing her breath already change into a slow, steady rhythm.

"You too, Damon," she murmured, already half asleep. "And you're pretty…pretty eyes…"

He smiled, grabbing a blanket and draping it over her hurt body.

As he watched her chest rise and fall, he hoped she enjoyed that nap, because when she was all healed and strong again, he was going to ask her about that call and if it meant what he thought it had meant, she wasn't going to sleep for a very long time. Not if he had anything to say about it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The first thing she noticed was that _everything_ ached. But it was a good ache. The kind of ache that signaled healing.

The second thing she noticed was a smell. A warm, familiar smell. The smell of breakfast. Pancakes. Waffles. Bacon. Eggs. Oranges.

Memories of her mother's Sunday extravagances pushed themselves to the surface.

But her mother was gone.

And Jeremy couldn't boil an egg.

So who was cooking?

Curious, she stretched a little so she could peer over the side of the couch and what she saw then made her heart flutter.

Damon.

In her kitchen.

Cooking.

Smiling, she watched him bring his finger to his mouth, suckling it, tasting something and raising his eyebrows in approval. She pushed back a giddy laugh at that. _Damon Salvatore_ was in her kitchen, doing a simple, human activity and visibly enjoying himself while doing it. She'd never seen anything more adorable.

When he turned his back to her, working on another batch of pancakes, Elena raised, folding her arms on top of the couch and resting her chin on them, shamelessly watching the muscles in his back ripple. He was really here. And strangely enough it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Yes, they'd been apart for over a month, but it didn't feel like it. Not in the least. It felt like he'd always been there, with her, in her house, in her life.

"You know," Damon sang, his back still turned to her. "It's not polite to stare."

Elena laughed softly, feeling ridiculous for ever thinking she could spy on a vampire. "I'm not staring, I'm−"

Drooling.

Yearning.

"−admiring."

His back stilled for a second. So did her heart.

"Your cooking skills," she added, swallowing hard. "Admiring your cooking skills."

"Mmmmmm," he just murmured, amusement radiating of him as he sprung back into action.

"How come you're such a good cook anyway?" she asked, choosing to ignore her slip-up. "Vampires don't have to eat normal food, right?"

"Nope," he said, plating the content of his pan. "Just blood." He let that last word roll around his tongue, twirling it, savoring it, proving once again how very different The Salvatore brothers were.

Stefan hated being a vampire and therefor hated everything surrounding it. He especially hated that he needed the blood of living beings to survive. He fed on animals as a compromise, never touching humans. But it made him weak. Well, weak for a vampire.

Damon, however, loved being the eternal, powerful stud and all that it entailed. He'd embraced being the mysterious, dangerous stranger women couldn't resist and he used it to his advantage every chance he got. And when _he_ got peckish, he wasn't the type to reach for a nice glass of Bunny or Bird. He fed on humans. And he wasn't ashamed off it, either. He'd accepted his bloodthirsty nature.

And to her utmost horror, she'd accepted it, too. She'd accepted _him_…every little part of him.

"Want a taste?"

A chill ran over her spine, goose bumps spreading out over her entire body. "What?"

That smug smile she'd come to love pulled at his lips. "The food, Elena."

"Right," she mumbled. "I knew that."

Her cheeks flushed, she got up and made her way to the cooking island, sitting down on one of the stools.

"So?" he said, waving his arm over the massive amount of food. "Name your poison."

Impressed, Elena let her eyes roam over the variety of deliciousness. "You didn't have to do all this, you know," she said, flattered.

"I didn't know what you liked."

"So you made everything?"

"Yes."

She smiled, feeling those goose bumps rise up again.

"Well, thank you," she said, reaching for the fruit salad.

"Women," he sighed, earning a playful glare from the one putting a grape in her mouth.

"Don't worry, I'm just getting started," she sang, scratching that spot on her neck that wouldn't stop itching. "My stomach's still waking up."

He nodded, pouring her a glass of fresh orange juice. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"I really needed that nap," she sighed, stretching content. "I didn't know just how exhausted I was until I actually laid down."

"Adrenaline will do that to you."

"Adrenaline and lots of pain medication," she laughed, grabbing a pancake.

"That'll do it."

Elena smiled, shoving a piece of syrupy pancake in her mouth.

"Oh my God," she moaned, "This is delicious!"

"A hundred and seventy, Elena," he explained. "I've had a lot of time on my hands."

"And you, Damon Salvatore, decided to spend less time killing and seducing and more time cooking?"

"I had my reasons."

"Which were?"

"Well, you know how they say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?"

"Mmmm," she murmured, chewing on another piece of doughy goodness.

He leaned back, doing that eye-thing again when he sang, "I found that the way to a woman's panties−"

She coughed, a fragment of pancake lodged in her windpipe.

"Alright," she said when she could speak again. "I got the picture, thank you."

"Hey, you asked."

"And, as always, I regret I did."

He cocked an eyebrow, raising his eyes to the roof.

"What?" she asked, following his gaze.

"Jeremy's up."

Elena sighed, running a hand through her hair. "What time is it?"

Damon checked the oven clock. "Five past twelve."

"Should I tell him that he can't stay in bed for that long?"

"Why?"

"Because he's _always_ sleeping in. It's not healthy, is it? Shouldn't he get out more and be around other people?"

"I think you should just let him do his own thing."

"Yeah, well, his _own _thing is constantly getting him into trouble."

"Not unlike his sister."

"His kind of trouble is not my kind of trouble, Damon," she grumbled. "He's using pot, he's angry and I'm pretty sure he's drinking, too."

"And you're crashing cars, getting abducted by rapists and consorting with vampires."

"Ha. Ha. Ha," she laughed sarcastically. "Glad I'm amusing you."

"You always amuse me."

_One way or another,_ Damon thought, watching her press another grape between her lips. He _really_ loved watching her eat. What he didn't love, was the way her smile had suddenly dropped.

"If she'd died, if I'd been left alone with Jeremy−" she trailed off, shaking her head. "I don't know how to pay a stupid bill. I don't know how to wash a load of clothing or iron or pay taxes or−"

"Hey, hey," he soothed, grabbing her hand. "Jenna is going to be fine, Elena."

"This time."

"Elena−"

Wiping a treacherous tear from her cheek, she whimpered, "People keep getting hurt around me, Damon. If I lose Jenna or Jeremy−"

_Or you._

"I don't know if I could handle it. I don't know if I could−"

He squeezed her hand, his blue pools drawing her in. "You won't lose them, Elena."

"You can't know that."

"You forget" he sang, "I'm Damon Salvatore. I know everything."

She laughed softly at that. "Right, it slipped my mind."

"Silly girl," he said, the silk of his voice doing all sorts of naughty things to her.

Suddenly, his thumb started stroking circles on the back of her hand and as much as she tried to ignore it, that simple act made her bones melt and her blood boil. Her breathing grew shallow as she glanced from her hand to his face. His head was tipped as he watched her, a strand of his black hair hovering in front of his bright blue eyes. Bright blue eyes that had a look in them that told her she was in trouble. Serious, deep, fathomless trouble.

Damon smiled lazily as he turned her hand over. Without releasing her eyes, he trailed his finger over her palm, running it all the way down to the tip of her middle finger and back. She shivered in responds, briefly closing her eyes as she gnawed her lip.

A deep growl made her eyes snap open again, staring right into two deep, black pools of pure lust. How could seeing his desire for her excite her so much?

"I want you even more," he growled, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I'd hoped that after a month−" He paused, shaking his head angrily. "−but I want you even more. How is that possible?"

Elena swallowed hard, trying to look away from the man who was raising every hair on her neck. But it was useless. Those deep eyes held so much emotion, so many promises. Promises of sweaty, hot nights. Promises of extreme, never-ending pleasure.

"I know what you mean," she breathed.

_Oh, crap. What did I just say?_

Damon's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline as he watched her blink wildly. He knew he had to act fast now, before she had a chance to cower out, to take it back.

Slowly, he reached out for her face and to his delight, she didn't shrug away from him.

"Elena," he rumbled, cupping her cheek. "Why did you call me last night?"

She leaned into his touch, turning her head so the tip of his thumb softly caressed her lips. That almost pushed him over the edge, almost made him forget what he'd promised himself. He wouldn't seduce her. She had to make the first move. And that started with her admitting why she'd called him.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Yes, you do. Why?"

His eyes dropped to her mouth, waiting for her answer, but when he saw her tongue darting out, licking her lips, he lost it.

Growling, his hand dropped to her chin, grabbing it hard, pulling her face forward. He expected her to at least struggle a little, but she didn't. She even raised from her seat to close more distance between them. He did the same, stopping when his face was only inches from hers.

"Elena−" he rumbled, her little whiffs of ragged breath hitting his face. "I−"

"What the hell?"

And just like that, the spell was broken. Her eyes wide, Elena scrambled away from him, turning to face the glaring boy in the door.

"Jeremy."

"What's going on here?" he asked, his eyes darting between Elena and Damon, who was now leaning back against the kitchen counter, a smug look on his face.

"Breakfast."

_Breakfast? Really? That's the best you can do?_

Jeremy's glare turned into a wide-eyed stare when he saw the cut above his sister's eye.

"Did _you_ do this to her?" he bit out, pointing at Damon. "You son of a−"

Jeremy took a threatening step forward, making Damon straighten up and follow his example.

"Stop it!" Elena hissed, shooting them both a meaningful glare. "Right now!"

Damon raised his hands in defeat, sitting down on one of the stools again. Jeremy however was still tense and ready to jump into a fight he was never going to win.

"Upstairs, Jeremy," she said, grabbing his arm. "We need to talk."

"This isn't over," her brother snarled at the vampire who was sipping from a glass of orange juice.

"Yes, it is," Elena said, nudging him towards the stairs. "And wipe that smug look of your face, Damon," she added with her back still turned to him. She didn't have to see. She knew him.

"Damon Salvatore, Elena?" Jeremy asked when his sister closed his bedroom door behind him. "You invited _him_ in?"

"Jeremy−"

"What were you thinking?"

The way he said it made Elena's chest tighten in anger and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "He's not as bad as you all make him out to be!"

"Y-you're defending him?"

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't judge him before getting to know him!"

"I have _no_ desire to get to know a vampire, Elena!"

"You know Stefan."

"Yes and I allow him around you, but Damon−"

"Allow?" she snarled. "You _allow_ me, Jeremy?"

"You know what I mean!"

"No, I really don't! And in case you forgot, I'm your _older _sister! You don't get to tell me who I do or do not invite inside or who I decide to have around me! Got it?"

"I'm just worried about you! And what's with the scratching?"

Elena hadn't even realized she'd been clawing at her neck again until her brother grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her skin.

"You have bruises on your arm," he said, grabbing her other arm where he would see the same thing, plus some deep cuts. "What the hell happened you to?"

Elena's temper faded when she saw the worry in her baby brother's eyes. "Jeremy, sit down for a second."

"No," he said, shaking his head roughly. "No, not this again."

"Jeremy−"

"Where is Jenna?"

"When we came back from the restaurant−"

"Where. Is. Jenna?" he shouted.

"She's in the hospital."

He stumbled back until he hit his bed, deciding maybe sitting down wasn't such a bad idea. "Is she−"

"She's fine."

"Jesus Christ, El!" he snapped, the fire back in his eyes. "_That's_ what you open with! Not with _she's in the hospital_!"

"Sorry."

"What happened?"

"We got into an accident on our way home. Jenna had a collapsed longue, but she's OK. She'll be home in a few days."

"And you?" he asked, his eyes scanning her.

"I lost some blood, but otherwise I'm fine."

"And how does Damon fit into this?"

"He picked me up from the hospital."

"How did he know you were in the hospital?"

"I called him."

"Why?"

Elena huffed. "When did this turn into an interrogation?"

"Around the time I saw you making out with Damon on top of a stack of waffles."

"OK," she snarled. "One, I wasn't making out with him and two, once again," she pointed at herself. "_Big_ sister."

"Fine," he said, a little smile pulling at his lips. "Can we go see Jenna?"

"Sure."

"I'll just grab a quick shower."

"And I'll pack a bag for her."

He nodded and pushed past Elena, pressing a little kiss on her cheek on the way.

"I'm glad you're OK, sis," he said before walking out of the room.

"You and me both," she mumbled, making her way into Jenna's room. Pushing back the memories of her parents sleeping there, she grabbed a bag from the closet and threw it on the bed.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

She glanced at Damon leaning in the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Do what?" she asked, grabbing three of Jenna's pajamas and shoving them in the bag.

"Defend me."

She stopped in her tracks, sniffing. "I need to soundproof this house."

"Don't," he said, his voice low. "It's the one place I hear something nice about me every once in a while."

Her chest tightened again when she faced him and saw the flicker of pain that crossed his blue eyes. It had been gone in a second, but she'd seen it as clear as day.

"You _are_ nice, Damon," she said, adding with a pointed look, "If you want to be."

"Oh, Elena," he sighed. "You really did lose a lot of blood, didn't you?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Always turning everything into a joke."

"Yeah," he sang, moving around Jenna's room. "I considered becoming a stand-up comedian, but then I realized I hate people and would probably end up killing them all as my final act."

"That _would_ be a showstopper."

He laughed that deep, rare laugh and lied down on the bed, his hands folded behind his head.

_OK, he's lying down. He's calm. He's smiling. As far as times and places go, this is as good as it gets with Damon Salvatore._

"OK," she said, scraping her throat. "Damon, there's something I have to tell you."

"Can you tell me from here?" he rumbled, patting the spot next to him.

"No, I think it's best I stay on this side of the room," she mumbled under her breath.

"OK," he said, straightening up with a serious look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing bad. There's just this little detail about the accident that I haven't told you about."

"What detail?" he asked, his blue eyes already darkening a shade.

"Just that−" she looked away from him, wringing her hands. "−it wasn't _really _an accident."

"What?" he gnarled.

She'd practiced this speech in the car on the way home from the hospital. It was a brilliant speech in which she would explain everything calmly and make it clear she had to hide the truth about the vampire from him for a while because she couldn't talk about it in the hospital or on the way home since he was already going over the speed limit and he was already angry with her.

But her mind was blank now. She couldn't remember a single thing she'd meant to say. So, with her heart racing, she started a ramble that was anything but brilliant or calm.

"OK, see, we were driving and it was raining and dark and he just popped up out of nowhere, cutting off our path, so Jenna tried to avoid hitting him and instead ended up crashing the car, so there was a crash, but it wasn't really an accident, you know?"

Damon stood up, his hands balled into fists by his thighs. "He?"

"I don't know who he is, but he dragged me out of the car and−"

"And what?" Damon fumed, his voice murderous. "What did he do, Elena?"

"He tried to kill me."

The veins around his eyes reappeared throbbing dangerously. "Human?"

She shook her head. "Vampire."

She'd expected many things. Screaming mostly. Maybe some name calling. Basically, a lot of anger. So, when she saw him relax and his eyes returned back to their un-veiny self, she was pretty stunned.

"A vampire tried to kill you?" he asked, a patronizing tone in his voice she _really_ didn't care for.

"Yes," she hissed stubbornly. "He dragged me out of the car and bit me."

His eyes dropped to her neck and she knew what he would see.

Absolutely nothing.

No puncture marks.

Mostly some irritation from her persistent nails.

"I know," she snapped. "I don't get it either, but he was there and he bit me! He tried to kill me, Damon!"

"Elena−"

"No!" she fumed. "It happened! I can still feel his fangs sinking into my neck!"

"And yet, no wound."

"I'm not making this up!"

"I know," he said, his voice soft. "But trauma can do strange things to the human mind, Elena."

"Here we go again," she gnarled, losing her patience. "Humans are just idiots, right! _I_'m just an idiot, right!"

"Did I say that?"

"No, what you're saying is that I made up being attacked by some vampire! Why? Why would I do that?"

"Because your parents died in a car crash, Elena. Because your aunt almost did the exact same thing."

"So I made up a vampire!" She cried sarcastically, throwing her hands up in the air. "Off course, 'cause that's what all humans do!"

"No, not all humans! Just those who've been through what you've been through! Just those who would rather deal with the fact that a vampire is after her, than facing that she almost lost everything again because of some stupid, human accident!"

"No, I−"

"Better something supernatural that you can fight than something that you have no control over, right?"

She shook her head, her mind going over that night again. It had happened! He'd hauled her away from Jenna! He'd talked to her! He had blond hair and black eyes!

Or did he have brown hair? Yes, brown hair!

Or were his eyes brown and his hair black?

"No," she whispered a lot less confident. "I−"

"Sweetness," he said, his lips pulling up in a sympathetic smile. "As much as I hate to say this, if a vampire had wanted to kill you, you would be dead right now."

She closed her eyes, searching her memory for his face when she remembered something.

"I drew him," she said, reaching into her pocket for the sheet of paper. "Blood transfusions get boring after a while. I borrowed a pencil from a nurse. I−"

His hand came down on hers before she could pull the drawing out.

"Elena, stop."

"But−"

"Where are the puncture wounds, Elena?"

"If you could just get past that and listen−"

"There's no getting past it. No fangs, no vampire."

_The man has a point._

_No, he was there._

_The vamp with the black or brown eyes and the blond or black or brown hair and the fangs who leave no holes?_

_God, I just made a total ass of myself, didn't I?_

"I imagined it?" she said, more to himself than to him. "Really?"

"It's what your mind does when it gets scared."

"Oh, give me a break, Damon!" she screamed, angrier at her own stupidity than at him. "What the hell do you know about being scared? You're indestructible! You don't get scared, so screw you and your little human-insights, OK!"

"Screw me?" he growled, glaring at her. "No, screw you, Elena!"

"Excuse me?"

You heard me! Screw you, human!" he yelled. "Yes, I _am_ fucking indestructible! But guess what, you're not! You can slip in your shower and break you neck! Or fall down your stairs! Or get in a fucking car crash and die while I listen to it on the other end of the line!"

The anger melted away when she saw the raw emotion in his eyes. "Damon, I−"

"So where the hell do you get the nerve−" he continued like she hadn't spoken. "−to stand there and tell me I don't get scared when the one thing, the _one_ thing, I lose sleep over is you!"

She didn't know what to say, where to start or even if she _should _start. It wasn't the right time for this conversation. She was mad at him. And he was mad at her. So why was her stomach doing flips? And why were his eyes much softer and glistening with heath?

"You lose sleep over _me_?" she finally asked, immediately wishing she'd at least attempted to hide the desperation in her words.

He moved closer to her, pressing himself against her, resting his hands on each side of her neck, his thumbs lightly caressing her bruised jaw. "Every night."

_He loses sleep over me,_ she thought, her eyes darting to his luscious lips, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him. _He worries about me. You don't worry if you don't care, right? Damon cares about me?_

Her heart was hammering in her chest at the mere thought, every fiber in her body tingling in anticipation, screaming at her to just give in, to just kiss the man she'd missed _so_ much. And she knew he felt the same. She could tell by the heated, burning black-blue that were now his eyes. So why didn't he make a move? Damon was standing absolutely still, his body solid and warm, but undemanding against her. It took her a few seconds, but then, she understood. He was keeping the promise he'd made to her that night in the library. He wouldn't make the first move. It was up to her. He was letting _her_ make the choice, unswayed by lust and desire and all the other erotic emotions she knew he would rouse with just the slightest touch of his lips. Elena took a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the delightful sensation of her breasts pressed up against his chest. It was up to her…

But she never got the chance to give in. Or pull away. Because before she could do either, he'd let go of her, looking over his shoulder at the door.

"Perfect, " he hissed, his eyes hard again.

"What?" Elena asked, her voice husky.

"Why did you call me, Elena?" he asked, his voice now harder, demanding. "Why did you call me last night?"

"I−I don't know," she stammered, still reeling from his sudden change.

"Not good enough, Elena. I need to know, now. Why did you call me?"

"I don't know!"

"Why, Elena?"

"I don't−"

"Damn it, just tell me, why!"

"Because I missed you, OK!" she screamed, pissed off. "Because I missed you!"

He nodded, a slow, seductive smile appearing. "OK."

"That's it? OK?" she snapped as he moved away from her. "Yes, I missed you, Damon! I missed you every day! Why do you even need to hear me say it?"

"Because," he rumbled, cupping her cheek. "In about a minute, my brother's going to walk through that door and when he does, when you're with him, I want you to remember the things you felt when he was gone."

_Like I could get forget._

"Damon−"

Slowly, he lifted his index finger to his lips, signaling her to be silent. She listened as he moved further away from her, leaning back against the wall, leaving her feeling utterly abandoned.

The next thing she knew, there was a loud bang downstairs and then, Stefan was hugging her like there was no tomorrow.

"Why didn't you call me, sweetheart," Stefan asked, Damon's blue eyes hard on hers, waiting for her answer.

Because he knew the truth. The reason she hadn't called Stefan was because she'd had Damon…and that had been all she needed. All she wanted. She hadn't even thought about calling her boyfriend to let him know she'd been in an accident. Off course, she couldn't actually admit to that, so instead she said, "You were with Lexi. I didn't want to bother you."

Damon's lips pulled up in a sneer, one of those mocking ones that she would've slapped-or kissed-off his face if Stefan hadn't been there.

"Elena, you never bother me," he said, squeezing her tighter. "_You_ on the other hand, do."

She knew the comment hadn't been addressed to her. So did Damon.

"The feeling is mutual, brother," Damon sang in that cool, composed voice she hadn't heard in a very long time. There was no trace of emotion, no warmth, no passion. His mask was up and she hated it.

"What are you doing here, Damon?" Stefan asked annoyed.

"Looking after your girl."

Her breath got caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing. _What the hell is he doing? Is he going to tell him about us? About what happened? About what almost happened again a few minutes ago?_

"I smelled her blood," he explained, making relief burst to life within her. "I smelled she was in trouble, so−"

"−you helped her out of the goodness of your heart?" Stefan snarled, his nostrils flaring.

"OK," Elena said in the calmest voice she could master. "Let's calm down for a second before Jenna's bedroom turns into a battlefield."

Damon sniffed. "It wouldn't be much of a battle."

Stefan took a step towards his brother, but Elena grabbed his hand and kept him in place, a move that earned her a furious glare from Damon.

_Hey, this isn't my fault!_ she wanted to scream._ I didn't call him!_

_Wait. I didn't call him. Who did?_

"Did you call him?" Elena asked, trying to distract the _jealous?_ vampire in front of her. "Did you call Stefan?"

"I'd rather get embalmed with Vervain."

"A simple no would've sufficed," the Salvatore beside her gnarled.

Elena frowned. "So who−"

"It was Bonnie," Damon said matter-of-factly.

Stefan nodded. "How did you know that?"

"She doesn't like me very much."

"Smart girl."

"Moronic witch."

"Best friend!"

"Sorry."

Stefan stiffened. Did Damon really just apologize? Damon Salvatore? His ruthless, soulless brother?

"Elena?" Jeremy walked in, his hair wet, an annoyed look on his face. "If you're done with the vampires, can we go?"

"Go?"

"Jenna's still in the hospital," she explained to Stefan. "We're going to see her."

"If we ever make it there," Jeremy sighed.

"OK, Jer, I get it. We're leaving," she said, grabbing the bag of the bed. "Let's−"

She hissed, dropping the sac on the floor and almost joining it there if it hadn't been for the two strong hands on her waist.

"Thanks," she whispered, seeing the warm, blue eyes again instead of the mask.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah. Forgot I have stitches in my shoulder."

He nodded, slowly letting go of her to see if she could stay up.

"Elena!" Jeremy cried when she stood on her own two feet again. "Come on!"

She snapped out of it, grasping that she'd just had one of her moments with Damon Salvatore. In front of Stefan.

"Yeah, OK, let's go," she said, snatching her bag from the ground and avoiding all eye contact with the Salvatores.

She'd already made it all the way to the stairs when a strong arm curled around her waist and Stefan's voice rang in her ear, "I'll drive you."

"That's really not necessary. I can−"

"I insist," he pushed, his fingers tightening around her. "We need to talk."

* * *

**As always, thanks ssoooooo much for the reviews, guys! I don't know if I would have the motivation to keep writing like this without you! What did you think about this new chapter? Let me know! X Me**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_Say something. Anything. _

Uncomfortable, Elena squirmed in her seat. How could things have become so awkward between her and Stefan? There had been a time when he was the only one she could bear around her. And now, all it took were ten minutes alone with him in a car, in absolute silence and she was actually considering jumping out of a moving vehicle.

"I'm _really_ sorry I didn't call you," Elena said, unable to stand the quiet any longer. "But it only happened last night and with everything going on with Jenna−"

"What happened?" he asked, finally speaking.

"We had an accident. Jenna must have lost control of the wheel."

"Must have?"

Elena frowned. "The night's kind of a blur. But it was raining and dark, so it makes more sense that _that's_ why we crashed."

"More sense than what?"

She shrugged, running a hand through her curls. "Never mind. Nothing. It was just a stupid accident."

He looked at her then for the first time since they'd left the house and there was something in his gaze she'd never seen before. It was only when he spoke again in an unusual hard voice that she knew what it was. Doubt...in her.

"And how does my brother fit into all of this?"

She forgot how to breath for a second.

"He told you," she said, trying to sound as convincing as she could. "He smelled my blood and followed the scent."

"Why?"

"Why _what_?"

"Why did he bother?"

"I don't know. You have to ask him."

"I'm asking _you,_" Stefan snapped.

He never snapped at her.

"And I'm telling you I don't know."

That silence returned and Elena wouldn't be the one to break it again. She already regretted doing it the first time.

However, clearly, Stefan didn't feel the same. "You shouldn't have invited him in, Elena."

"He drove me home from the hospital."

"You could've said goodbye at the door."

"I didn't want to be rude."

Stefan huffed, shaking his head. "Rude? He's a psychopath, Elena! Who cares about being rude!"

"He's not a psychopath," she hissed before she could stop herself. She was just so sick of it. Sick of people judging Damon, writing him off as some unredeemable monster who should be put down as soon as possible. They never saw him for who he really was! They never looked beneath the surface! Small minded idiots!

A fire burst to life within her and with a start she realized something she should've realized a long time ago. Her heart had already made her choice between the brothers, whether her head liked it or not. Yes, Stefan loved her and yes, she loved him, but she _loved_ Damon. And she could fool herself into believing it was just a crush or that it would pass, but that would be the biggest lie she'd ever tell herself, because deep down, she knew this was it. This was what her mother had told her about all those years ago. True love. And yes, there was a good chance Damon would never truly love her the way she loved him, but he _did _care about her. She'd felt it the night he'd saved her from Christian, the night he'd wrapped his arms around her on her birthday and that morning when he'd cooked for her and told her she was on his mind every night. He felt _something_ for her and with Damon Salvatore, that was really as much as a girl could expect, wasn't it? It didn't matter, anyway. It was too late. She was irrevocably in love with him and there was no going back.

"You're defending him, Elena?" Stefan said, bringing her back to reality, a reality that had now changed in every way possible. Suddenly, she was no longer trapped in a car with a man she needed forgiveness from. She was trapped in a car with a man she needed to let go, so she could be with the man she was always meant to be with.

"Yes, I am," she said, everything suddenly crystal clear. "He's changed, Stefan."

"Killers like him never change!"

"Really, Ripper?"

_Too mean_, she thought, seeing Stefan close his eyes for a brief moment. She just really didn't like people talking smack about Damon. But she also didn't like seeing Stefan hurt, which was a problem, because she knew she was about to hurt him even more.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, softly placing her hand on his arm. "I shouldn't have said that."

"He's nothing like me."

"He's more like you than you realize."

Stefan shrugged her hand off. "No, he's not. When I killed, I lost control. I blacked out and became an animal, actually tearing my victims apart. That's why they called me The Ripper, Elena. But Damon−"

"Damon _what_?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Damon never loses control."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yes. When he kills, he's still very aware of what he's doing. He's still _him_. He seeks out his prey, always women, and he stalks them. He gets close to them, makes them fall for him and when he has them where he wants them, he kills them."

"He's not like that anymore," she said, determined not to run this time, not to let anyone change her mind.

"Oh, come on, Elena! He's stalking you right now!"

Elena glanced in the side mirror, seeing Damon's car right behind them.

"That's not his doing. That's all Jeremy."

When her brother had seen Damon's black, sleek car, he'd insisted on driving to the hospital in it and Damon had agreed all too eagerly.

"Wake up, Elena!" Stefan screamed. "He's playing you!"

"He's not playing me. I would know."

"No, you wouldn't! He's had over a century to master the skill of _lying through his teeth_! It's what he does! Don't fall for it!"

"Stefan−"

"I know you, sweetheart," he continued, softer. "You want to see the good in everyone and he picks up on that."

"No, he−"

"He'll try to wiggle his way into your life, Elena. He'll try to make you feel for him. He'll try to make you care. And once you do, once your guards are down, he'll kill you, just like the others."

"He won't."

"He will!"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"Because my guards have been down for a while now," she said, her voice soft and filled with guilt.

He didn't understand what she was trying to say, though. Or maybe he didn't want to understand.

"Then he's probably taking his time."

"No, Stefan."

"Elena, you don't know−"

"He saved me."

He frowned at that. "Last night? I thought it was just an accident."

"No. Not last night. With Christian."

His eyes widened. "But you said−"

"−that I escaped when he wasn't paying attention. I know."

"You lied?"

When he said it, she could almost see herself falling from the pedestal he'd put her on.

"I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?"

Swallowing hard, she whispered, "Because of what happened afterwards."

His Adam's apple bounced up and down a few times before he said in a grated voice, "You slept with him."

"No."

He sighed in relief.

"Not _that_ night ."

The car sped up and suddenly she wondered why she was telling him this while he was driving. Time and place, remember. But she'd just had enough. She couldn't stand lying anymore. Not to Stefan. Not to Damon. Not to herself. Enough was enough. This ended right now.

"He compelled you," Stefan snarled.

"No, he didn't."

"Trust me, Elena, he did!" he screamed. "You would never act like this out of your own free will! He compelled you!"

"No, Stefan−"

"Don't worry, I'll kill him for what he did to you! I'll kill him and we'll get passed this! We'll be happy!"

"He didn't compel me."

His foot pressed down on the gas even harder. "Yes, he did! There's no other explanation!"

"You told me the necklace was filled with Vervain, right?" Elena continued against her better judgment. "How could he compel me, Stefan?"

"Maybe you forgot to put it on! All it takes is one second−"

"I was wearing the necklace."

"You can't be sure of that! Maybe−"

"You put it on me yourself," she said, her mouth dry. "I was definitely wearing it when−" she trailed off. He knew what she meant. No need to rub it in.

"I put it on?" he snarled, comprehension dawning on his face. "On your birthday?"

Her eyes dropped to her hands, a tear trickling down. "I'm so sorry, Stefan."

"No, you were with _me_ on your birthday," he said, his voice thick. "And before the party you were with Caroline and afterwards you fell asleep in _my_ room!"

"Yes, but−"

"Maybe he only compelled you into thinking you slept with him! He would do that, you know! To screw with my head! There's no other explanation!"

Denial's a powerful thing.

"It wasn't before the party," she said, her cheeks reddening. "Or after."

His brow furrowed confused so she added, "Lexi called you, remember. You left."

Denial can only do so much. Elena realized this when Stefan ran a red light, his nostrils flaring, his veiny eyes furiously glued to the road. The trees outside of her window turned into blurs and it felt like the car no longer touched ground.

Panicking, Elena checked the mirror again and saw Damon's car was still there, matching their speed. Which would be comforting if it wasn't for the fact that Jeremy was in his car with him.

"Stefan!" she cried. "Please, stop!"

"Stop?" he snarled. "Did you tell _him _to stop?"

_No._

"I'm so sorry, Stefan!"

"Oh, you're sorry?" he mocked. "Well, I guess everything's OK then, huh!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"**Then you shouldn't have fucked my brother!**"

Another red light got ignored. A car missed them by an inch. Elena screamed, but Stefan just kept going.

"Stefan, please!"

"You destroyed us for a fuck, Elena!" he screamed.

"No, I−"

"No?" he growled. "You don't think I can actually forgive you, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"We could've had everything and you just threw it away for a one night−"

"I love him."

His brown eyes left the road and found hers, piercing them with a hurt, angry glare. And then he did something she hadn't seen coming. Not from a mile away.

He laughed. _Really_ laughed.

"You _love_ him?" he chuckled hysterically.

"Yes," she said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. She had no right to be angry.

"Oh, Elena, please tell me you're kidding! You can't be _that_ stupid!"

_No right to get angry,_ she kept thinking like her own personal mantra.

"He'll use you until he gets bored!" Stefan continued, serious again. "And then he'll either leave or kill you!"

"No, he won't," she said confident.

He jerked at the wheel, making a sharp turn left. A _very_ sharp turn left. Elena was flung against the door, her head hitting the window.

Damon's car did the same, so she could only assume Jeremy's head was bruised too at that point. That's when the anger fought its way to the surface. Hurting _her _was fine. Hurting Jeremy, however…

"Damn it, Stefan! Stop this car! Now!"

"He will never love you, Elena!" he said, ignoring her. "He's not capable of it!"

"I'll love enough for the both of us!" she screamed, her nails embedding themselves into her seat. "Now, pull the fucking car over!"

"Fine!"

Tires shrieked. Her body lurched forward. She could feel the seatbelt digging into her skin, painfully. But she figured it was better than feeling her head digging into the windshield.

Faster than she knew she could move, she unbuckled and hurried out of the car, her breakfast crawling up throat, her vision blurry as her mind raced. Stefan had almost killed her! Stefan!

The sound of an ambulance made her focus again and that's when she saw where she was. The hospital. At least he'd gotten her where she needed to be.

Another car came to a shrieking halt right in front of her. Damon got out of it, looking absolutely frantic as he grabbed Elena's chin and forced her eyes to his. His blue eyes calmed her down a little, but something inside of her was still boiling, still hurting.

"I'm fine," she lied, answering his unspoken question as she put her hands to his chest. "Really."

"Well, isn't that just adorable," Stefan snarled from beside them, his expression livid.

"You!" Damon snarled, letting go of Elena. "What the hell was that!"

"Don't worry," Stefan hissed. "Your whore is just fine."

Her heart ached at his cruel words, but when she saw the way Damon looked at her, the ache turned into an all-consuming heath.

"You told him?" Damon asked softly while Jeremy screamed at Stefan in the background for calling his sister a whore.

Elena smiled weakly, still feeling the aftermath of her death ride. "I couldn't lie anymore."

"So, what does this mean?"

"It means you were right," she whispered. "I'm yours."

Now, Elena had seen Damon smile before, but never like the way he smiled at her in that moment. His entire face just lid up and for a second she saw what Damon must've looked like as a kid. Happy. Carefree. Innocent.

His warm hand cupped the back of her neck, pushing her closer to him, to his lips. Her stomach tied in knots as she grabbed his leather jacket so hard her knuckles turned white. She was going to taste him again, feel him again and this time there would be no guilt underneath the lust. There would be love. So much love. And it wouldn't be a fleeting meeting in a parking lot or a library. She would go home with him, she would be with him. Forever.

However, forever was going to have to wait, because before his lips touched hers, he was slammed to the side, into a parked ambulance, leaving a huge Damon-shaped dent in the door.

"Oh, no," Elena hissed, looking around and spotting about a dozen spectators. Doctors and nurses taking a break, paramedics beginning their shifts, family of patients coming out for some air. Too many people for two vampires to be fighting in front of.

"Stefan, Damon, stop!" she yelled, starting towards them.

A hand grabbed her wrist. "Are you out of your mind?" Jeremy snarled. "Getting between two fighting vampires is never a good idea."

She pulled free, watching Damon slam his fist into Stefan's jaw. On the plus side, their faces were still very human. They knew they were being watched.

"Please, stop!" she cried again, her heart racing uncontrollably.

Damon hit the ground, Stefan on top of him, slamming his brother's head into the pavement over and over again.

"No, no, no," Elena mumbled, shaking her head a little too hard. Her eyes couldn't follow the quick movement, causing a splitting headache to crawl into her brain. "Just stop," she mumbled, her voice weaker.

Her heart started thumping even faster. Too fast. Frowning, she clutched her chest, actually feeling every beat radiate through her. Breathing became harder and at first, she still thought she was just panicking. But she knew that wasn't it. She'd panicked enough over the last few months to know what it felt like and this was different. _This _was worse_._

Her hand dropped from her chest. Not that she'd decided to do so, but her arm had suddenly felt too heavy. _Everything_ felt too heavy. Her head. Her legs. Her arms. Her eyelids.

_Oh God, no. Not now._

"Damon?" was the last thing Elena uttered before everything shut down.

Right there, on that parking lot, while the Salvatores fought, Elena Gilbert died.

* * *

**More chapters are coming! So, what did you think? Let me know! x LustAndLove**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_The hottest love has the coldest end_ -Socrates-

Everything felt wrong. _He _felt wrong. Numb. Like he no longer belonged to the world. Like he was watching himself from a distance, from somewhere far away, trying to figure out what had happened. How he'd gotten there. He didn't even remember leaving the hospital. Had he walked? Driven? Ran? He didn't know. Still, somehow he'd found himself in that room.

_Her_ room.

Ele−

His mind stopped him. He couldn't think her name. Couldn't think about what had happened. She couldn't be−

Softly, he closed the door behind him, locking himself in. Everything smelled like her. The whole space was just drenched with _her_. Strange how her scent still lingered here when _she_ no longer smelled like anything. When she was just _cold_.

His legs moved then, maneuvering him around the room. His fingers ran over her drawers, touching the jewels she'd left lying around, the hairbrush she'd abandoned in front of her mirror. A mirror filled with pictures of her. Smiling. Her arm around Bonnie. Jeremy. Caroline. Matt. Tyler. Her parents. Some snapshots of her and Stefan dancing, laughing, kissing. Would she have gotten rid of those? And replaced them with images of her and him together?

He was by her window then. By the bay seat she'd spent numerous hours on, writing in her journal, watching the stars, thinking. Had she been thinking about him? He'd been thinking about her. He always thought about her. His eyes found the book on the floor. He picked it up like he was handling a newborn baby, placing it onto the pillow she must've been resting against before she was interrupted. As he backed away, he could see the branch he'd spent more than one night on before he'd even met her officially, watching her from the shadows. Had she known? Had she known he'd seen the tears she didn't want to share with anyone? Had she known he'd seen her stare at herself in the mirror like she was looking for something in those chocolate eyes? No. She wouldn't have put up with it. She would've confronted him. She would've yelled and screamed until her cheeks were all flushed and that little angry wrinkle above her nose had shown up. That's who she was. She didn't take crap from anyone. Especially not from him. Sometimes, it seemed like she wasn't scared of anything. Had she been scared in those last moments?

His feet moved again as if to get him away from his train of thought and then he found himself in her bathroom. Make-up. Not much, but a few basic things. Mascara. Eyeliner. Lip gloss. They were scattered around the sink like she'd hurried to put them on. Jenna must've surprised her with the restaurant idea. His fingertips caressed each little bottle, each colorful flask like it were the most precious things on this earth. When he reached her shower, he noticed his hands were trembling. Slowly, he grabbed the white bottle on the tiled floor. Closing his eyes, he flicked the cap open and at once, the familiar smell of peaches hit him. It had been on his fingers whenever he'd tucked a curl behind her ear, on his clothes when he'd wrapped his arms around her, in his every pore when he'd dug his nose into her beautiful, silk hair and breathed her in.

The bottle slipped out of his grasp and faster than he'd moved all night, he backed out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut loudly. He'd felt her again, her fragile arms around his neck, her lips pressed sweetly against his. It had felt like she was right there, with him. But she wasn't. She would never be there again.

Tears stung his eyes for the first time in literally ages as he backed away from the door. The bed hit the nape of his knees and he let himself plop down, let himself drown in what was left of her fragrance. Feeling drops run down his cheeks, he grabbed a handful of her sheet and brought the fabric to his nose, breathing her in, letting her fill his every being. But it wasn't enough! It wasn't _her_! Furious at everyone and everything, he jumped on his feet again, intended to kill, to maim, to make the world feel exactly how he felt.

Broken.

Dead.

He'd only taken his first enraged step towards the door when he noticed how the floorboard by her bed actually gave way under his foot.

Snarling, he kneeled down, jerking the loose board away in a fierce display of pure rage. However, what he found underneath the wood made the rage fade, replacing it with only pain and despair that ran so deep he was sure he would never be able to shake it again.

Pictures.

One of Damon from when he was still human. Gun strapped to his back, uniform neatly fitted, face serious and just a faint trace of fear in his eyes. The day he was sent off to fight.

An even older one of him and Stefan when they'd been children. Baby Stefan clinging to Damon's hand, waving at the woman standing behind the lens. His mother. He remembered that day. His father hadn't been home which meant their mom had been all theirs.

One of him and Stefan right before they'd met Katherine Pierce, their arms playfully around each other's shoulders, smiling, nothing but friendship and brotherly love in their eyes as they looked at each other.

And then the fading pictures were replaced by colorful ones. Pictures of Caroline's party at the Grill. At first, Damon didn't understand the connection with the other photographs, but then he looked behind the people who were posing and saw her. And him. Sitting in the boot. Laughing. Drinks in front of them.

And lastly a shot of her and him dancing on her birthday. It was at the beginning of their dance, when he'd just dragged her onto the dance floor. He had an arrogant smile on his face, holding one of her tiny hands in his. She had her chin raised in that stubborn way only she could pull off. And even though her eyes looked annoyed, there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

A sorrowful drop trickled down Damon's chin when he looked up again and noticed everything he'd missed before. The book that had been on the floor wasn't just any book. Anne Rice. The shirt on her bed that she'd worn at night...it was his. The one she'd left with that morning she'd ran away from him. That, combined with the pictures in his hand… She _had_ been thinking about him. And he hadn't been there. He should've been there. Maybe if he hadn't left her alone, maybe if he'd fought harder, if he'd tried to convince her they belonged together instead of leaving her to figure it out herself.

Leaving her defenseless.

She wouldn't have been at that restaurant, but with him. _Safe_ with him.

She wouldn't have been in that car when it crashed.

She wouldn't have gotten hurt.

She wouldn't have died.

And there it was. The truth he'd been trying to deny. The truth he didn't want to accept.

Elena.

_His _Elena.

Was gone.

Forever.

His strength faded away, leaving his mind defenseless against the memory that had been pushing to resurface.

* * *

_*Flashback*_

Stefan was on top of him, slamming his head into the ground.

And Damon just let him.

He'd always known that the day his brother would find out about Elena and him he'd have to pay. He'd just never thought he'd actually _let_ Stefan pummel him, let him get _that _much satisfaction at least. It was so unlike him. But hey, Damon was in a good mood. She'd chosen him. Elena had chosen _him_. So tonight, nothing could hurt him. Not even his brother's persistent fists.

"No, no, no," he heard his girl softly mumble. "Just stop."

She'd been pleading for them to cease their fight for a while now, but Stefan didn't listen. He just kept going, fueled by pure hate and betrayal. Luckily, his broken brother still had enough of his sanity left to remember where they were. Nothing about their fight screamed vampire.

No distorted faces.

No superhuman force.

Just two brothers fighting.

Well, two brothers almost killing each other, but in a human sort of way.

"Damon?"

Her voice was weak.

Too weak.

A coldness crawled around his heart.

Sharpening his senses, he caught Stefan's fist in mid-air.

And then, everything just stopped.

One second she'd been right there and the next she was _gone_.

He couldn't hear the soft thumping in her chest anymore.

Couldn't hear her breath pass her lips.

Couldn't hear her blood run thickly through her veins.

It was like she'd just _vanished_.

What he _could_ hear, was Jeremy. Screaming his lunges out.

Stefan and Damon shared a look and jumped to their feet, rushing to the girl who was now lying on the ground.

Motionless.

Breathless.

Lifeless.

Damon crashed to his knees beside her, turning her on her back, ignoring her open, unfocused eyes.

"Elena!" he screamed, cupping her face. "Elena!"

"Do something!" Jeremy ordered. "Help her!"

Damon's mind started racing as he heard the people behind him pick up on what was happening.

What _was _happening?

Faster that the human eye could perceive, he pushed out his fangs and bit down on his wrist.

"Damon, what are you doing?" Stefan asked, grabbing his arm.

Damon's fury sparked when he saw his brother's slumped body, when he saw the defeat in his eyes.

"What does it look like!" he snapped. "I'm healing her!"

"It won't work."

"Let him help her!"

"Jeremy," Stefan said softly. "She has no pulse. She's−"

_No!_

Damon growled, pushing Stefan's chest so hard he was forced to let go of his arm. He wasn't going to give up on her. Not now. Not ever.

"Come on, Elena," he whispered, his bloody wrist pressed to her open lips. "Drink."

She didn't.

She didn't do anything.

That dormant fear burst to life within him, overwhelming him, overwhelming everything.

"Come on, baby!" he screamed, hearing Jeremy cry. "Drink!"

"Damon−"

"No, Stefan! She'll drink!"

"Damon−"

"Damn it, Gilbert, for once do as I saw and drink!"

The puncture wounds started closing and she just laid there. Still. Those brown eyes completely vacant. She was−

"No!" he bellowed.

His big hands pressed down on her chest, over the place her beautiful heart used to race whenever he touched her, and suddenly he found himself doing CPR, trying to force her body back into action, listening for every little change inside.

But nothing changed.

Everything stayed _quiet_.

"No, Gilbert, you don't get to do this to me!" he screamed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her roughly. "Don't you do this to me! Wake up!"

"Stop it!" Jeremy yelled, clawing at Damon's arms.

And then, there were humans there.

Why were there humans?

"Damon," Stefan cried, his voice barely breaking through the haze that had suddenly enveloped him. "Let them try."

They took her from him.

He let them.

They placed her on a gurney.

Rolling her away from him.

He followed, hearing the doctors throw medical terms around. Medical terms he wished he didn't understand.

And then she was in a room.

And they cut her shirt off.

And there were pedals on her chest.

She arched up from the bed.

But it was just a bodily reflex to the electricity that they were driving through her.

It wasn't actually _her_ responding.

It wasn't actually _her_ anymore.

Another shock.

And another one.

And another one.

Nothing.

Next thing he knew, this doctor came and he said something to Jeremy, something that made the boy fall to his knees. And all Damon could do was just stand there.

Looking at her.

Waiting for her to open her eyes.

Waiting for someone to tell him there'd been a mistake and that she was fine.

Waiting to wake up.

And then Jenna was there.

And she was crying, holding Jeremy and Stefan, yelling something.

He should be yelling, too. Probably.

He should be doing something.

But he couldn't move.

He didn't remember how to.

_Elena?_

*_End flashback_*

* * *

When Damon had found out Katherine had betrayed him, he hadn't shed a tear. He'd lost the women he'd spent over a hundred years loving, but he'd moved past it. And now he'd lost Elena−his beautiful, strong, warm Elena−and the tears wouldn't stop. Not that he tried to stop them. He didn't have the strength to fight them, didn't have the strength to do anything besides press her pictures to his chest and wail.

There, in the privacy of Elena's bedroom, Damon Salvatore broke down for the first time in ages.

* * *

Night was already falling. The sky outside her window was turning pitch black. But he didn't move. He was sitting against her wall, staring into the distance, the photographs still clutched in his fingers. The tears had stopped. He didn't have any left. But the pain inside didn't weaken. It would never weaken. Luckily, he wasn't planning on sticking around much longer. Not without her.

"You should be in the hospital."

Damon blinked when Matt's broken voice reached his ears. The next to speak was Jenna. Or what was left of her. Her voice was weak, filled with torture, submerged with grief.

"I need to be here. For Jeremy."

"But−"

"I can't stay there anymore, Matt. Not after_ that_."

There was a long silence until the boy said in a voice that was barely audible, "Do you need anything else?"

"No. Thank you."

"I could stay and−"

"No. Jeremy and I−" a sob broke the sentence. "We need to be alone."

"If you need me−"

"And if _you_ need_ me_−"

Matt started crying then. He missed her, too. And for the first time, Damon envied the boy. He'd had a history with her, had woken up next to her, had been able to kiss her whenever he wanted to, around whoever he wanted to. Matt had spent years with the girl he'd had too little time with.

The front door slammed closed and there were only two heartbeats in the house now. Two very fast heartbeats. But not hers. Never again hers.

He lost himself in the pain again, lost himself in agony, so he didn't notice that the heartbeats were moving. He never heard them coming until the door opened and Jeremy stood right in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here!" he hissed, his nostrils flaring.

Damon stood up, swallowing hard, lost for words.

"You shouldn't be here!" the boy continued, angry tears pouring from his eyes. "You have no right!"

"I−"

Jenna walked in then. She didn't look like the woman he'd seen before. She looked like a ghost of her old self. Her skin was almost translucent. Her eyes were dull. Her face was expressionless.

"This is all your fault!" Jeremy continued, pointing at him. "You killed her!"

"No," Damon said silently. "I didn't want−"

"She should've stayed in that hospital! She needed to be around doctors! They would've seen this coming!"

"She seemed OK," he whispered more to himself than to her brother. "She said she was fine."

"Clearly, she lied! And now she'd dead. And it's because of you, you son of a bitch!"

"Jeremy," Jenna said, putting her hand on the boy's shoulder.

"No!" he snarled, shrugging Jenna's touch off. "He took my sister from me!"

Jeremy's fist flew out and Damon didn't avoid it. He didn't fight back. He just let him hit him. Why not? It's not like he could be in more pain than he already was. And if it made the boy feel better…

But it didn't make him feel better. It seemed to make him feel worse. Shaking his head, Jeremy clutched his hair and backed away from Damon.

"She deserved more than dying on a parking lot!" he snarled, those tears running down again. "She deserved more!"

_More than me, he means. She deserved more than me._

Jeremy left then, leaving him alone with a woman who was now staring at him, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Damon whimpered, his eyes dropping. "I'm so sorry."

He tried to walk away, but when he passed Jenna, she grabbed his arm, her gaze piercing him the way_ hers_ used to pierce his, too.

"It was you," she said, fresh tears filling her eyes. "Oh my God, it was you."

Damon swallowed hard. She'd told her. She'd told her aunt about him. His heart warmed for a second, until he remembered that it didn't matter. Not anymore. She could've told the whole world, but what difference did it make if she wasn't in that world anymore?

He gently disengaged from Jenna and headed for the door.

"Elena is−" her voice broke. "−_was _a stubborn girl, Damon. If she wanted out of that hospital, she would've found a way whether you were there or not."

He stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes. Jenna was trying to comfort him. _She _would've tried, too.

"There's a wake for her tomorrow at the funeral home," Jenna added. "At five o'clock."

"People don't want me there."

"I want you there."

"I don't −"

"Elena would've wanted you there."

"Elena would've wanted to be alive."

He hadn't meant to snap at her, but this was too much. He couldn't be there, in her house, with her family, talking about her wake.

_Her wake._

He was gone before she could utter another word, disappearing into the night, trying to outrun her face, her smile, her eyes, all the while knowing all too well that he could run until the world ended. He would never forget.

At least _never_ would come soon.

* * *

Stefan stood in a corner, overlooking the little room that was now crowded with people in black. Her friends, her family. They were all there.

Some of her old cheerleader friends were swapping stories about Elena as captain, before her parents had died. She'd been so outgoing, so happy.

Her teachers talked about what a joy she'd been to teach, about how respectful and smart she was.

Caroline and Matt where standing by Jenna, telling them how amazing Elena had been as a friend. How she'd always been there for them. How she'd always been a shoulder to cry on.

Jeremy was like him, standing in a corner, avoiding everyone.

Tyler was supporting Bonnie, guiding her to a free chair. The little witch had been up all night trying to contact her best friend without result. He knew. He'd been there with her. He'd pushed her to try harder, longer. He'd exhausted her. But he hadn't cared. He had to talk to her. He had to tell her how sorry he was, how he never meant to call her that name, how much he loved her. He just couldn't accept that the last thing the girl he loved had heard out of his mouth was him calling her a whore. He wanted her to know that that's not how he thought of her, that she'd been a bright light in his never ending night and that he just wanted her to be happy, even if that meant being with his brother. He'd be there to pick up the pieces after Damon did what he always did. After he destroyed her. He would be there to build her back up.

But now she would never know. She died thinking he hated her. His eyes found the little door in the side of the room. The little door that lead to her coffin. That led to her. He hadn't had the strength to go in, yet. To see her.

Another figure entered the room and even though Stefan couldn't see him, he immediately knew who it was, because at once, the room started buzzing about his presence.

_Who is that?_

_What is _he_ doing here? _

_The other Salvatore. Did he know Elena?_

_Isn't that Stefan's brother?_

_Is he single? _

_Remember that dance at her party?_

_Oh, eye candy. _

He reached Jenna in a few steps and she actually looked happy to see him. Her friends, however, did not. Caroline and Matt's body language turned hostile and Bonnie shot him a glare before finding Stefan's eyes, silently ordering him to do something. But what could he do? As long as Damon wasn't going to cause a scene, he wasn't going to either.

"You came," Stefan heard Jenna say.

His brother nodded. "Where is she?"

Jenna pointed at the door and he immediately headed for the room.

Stefan followed.

He wasn't going to leave his brother alone with her.

Softly, he slipped inside after Damon, hiding in the shadows of the dark room. The only light was in the middle of the space, above the white coffin, above Elena. And Damon. He was standing over her body, his finger softly running over her cheek.

"Oh, sweetness, no."

Stefan's insides knotted together, but not because of Damon's pet name for Elena. No, the reason his entire body ached was the tears that were trickling down the vampire's face.

Slowly, Damon leaned down, placing his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he sobbed softly. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

He stayed still for a moment, his eyes closed, until he finally pressed a long kiss to her forehead and straightened up.

"Don't worry, brother," he said then, gently picking up a strand of her hair and stroking it between his fingers. "After tonight, I won't bother you again. Just give me this moment with her."

Stefan slipped out of the shadows, watching his older brother through new eyes. This wasn't the Damon he knew and hated. This was the Damon he'd known back in their human days. This was the Damon who cared.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly running over her cheekbone, so much sadness in his eyes that Stefan suddenly understood. He suddenly knew.

"You loved her."

Damon just looked at him, silent, his lips pulled up slightly. That's all it took between them. Yes, they hated each other, but they were still brothers. They still understood each other, even when they wished they didn't.

Damon looked back at her then, reaching into his jacket pocket. Still baffled, Stefan saw him pull out a picture. Before he could get a good look at it, Damon put it in her coffin, next to her body.

"There's a hidden compartment," Stefan said softly. "In the patting underneath the lid. Jenna put some of her things inside."

He didn't go over there to show him. He didn't want to step between him and Elena. This was their moment. Their last moment.

Damon found it, opening it with the utmost care. When he placed the picture inside, he pulled out some of the things others had left her.

Stefan's Vervain necklace.

A few pictures of baby Elena and of her with her friends, with her brother.

Some letters he didn't read.

A crystal, no doubt Bonnie's.

Rose petals.

And a folded up piece of paper. Damon unfolded it carefully. And then, his brother's entire manner changed. The torture just flowed out of him, anger taking its place.

"Damon?"

He didn't even hear him. He just tightened his grip on the sheet and growled a deep, primal growl.

"What's happening?" Stefan asked, picking up on the air of danger. "What is it?"

Damon growled again and then he was out of the room, Stefan right behind him, right there to stop him from whatever he was planning to do. Because whatever it was, it couldn't be good. He knew this side of Damon all too well. He was on murder-mode.

The second he reached the crowd again, Damon's eyes zoomed in on Jenna. Snarling, he pushed his way through the sea of people, no doubt hurting each and every one of them.

"Damon, what−" Stefan started, but when they reached Elena's aunt, Damon cut him off.

"What is this?" Damon gnarled, shoving the paper in her face.

Jenna looked startled, her eyes darting over the sheet.

"I−It's her last drawing," she said, her voice dripping with agony. "Put that back, ple−"

"Was this in her pocket?" he asked, his voice icy.

Jenna nodded, her eyes dropping.

"No, Jenna, focus!" Damon ordered rudely. "Have you ever seen this man?"

She frowned, examining the drawing closer. Stefan did the same. And he came up with the same answer as her.

"No."

"Damn it," he hissed. "Look closer, Jenna! Think!"

"I don't−" She did what he asked, really taking in the man's face. "I mean...he looks kind of familiar, but I don't−"

"That night you crashed−"

"OK, enough!" Bonnie interrupted. "Leave now, Damon!"

"That night you crashed−" he persisted like Bonnie hadn't spoken. "−why did you lose control of the wheel?"

"I−I don't remember."

"Yes, you do!" he screamed, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. "Think! Was it the rain?"

"Please, Damon, I don't−"

"Jenna, you−"

A blinding pain hit him, piercing his brain. He knew what it was. He'd felt it before. The witch. Mumbling Latin, she grabbed the drawing from him. She'd had enough. But he hadn't.

Grinding his teeth against the pain, he grabbed Jenna's shoulders and forced her eyes on his, his pupil dilating.

"Jenna, remember that night, please. It was dark, yes?"

She nodded. The compulsion was working, even though his brain felt like it was about to explode. But he had to focus, he had to hold on a little while longer.

"It was raining," she said, her voice low. "Elena was on the phone. She was calling you."

Damon nodded, feeling the witch put some more power into her spell. He had to hurry.

"And then what, Jenna?" he asked, black spots popping up in front of his eyes. "What happened?"

Jenna blinked wildly, freeing herself from the compulsion and then she said something that finally made Bonnie release him.

"There was a man," she said confused. "In the middle of the road. He made us crash."

Damon felt like his entire being was suddenly jumpstarted back into action. Cursing under his breath, he snatched the drawing out of Bonnie's fingers and stared at the face he knew all too well. Why hadn't he listened to her? He could've prevented all of this if he'd just listened!

"Don't bury her!" he snarled, pushing past them.

"What? Why the hell not, Damon?" Bonnie yelled after him.

"Because," he screamed, kicking the door open. "She's not dead!"

* * *

**Sorry, it took me a while to finish this! It was just very hard to write! What did you think? Let me know, please! I looovvveee your comments!**

**X LustAndLove**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation_−Kahlil Gibran−

_What did he just say?_

Bonnie stared at the door Damon had disappeared through, her mind working overtime.

Every single person was whispering about the bombshell Damon had just dropped on them. Most thought the man was just crazy. That he'd lost his mind after seeing Elena's body.

But a handful knew that Damon wasn't just a man.

A handful knew about the things that go bump in the night.

A handful knew that what he'd said was possible.

And Bonnie was one of that handful. So when Damon had yelled those words, her heart had leaped, had filled with hope. And Stefan must've felt the same, because he immediately started towards the door, intend on following his brother.

"Stefan, wait," Bonnie said, trying to keep up with his pace. "Please, hold up!"

The vampire turned, facing her. "Bonnie, I don't have time. If Damon's right, I should help him find whoever did this to Elena."

"No, you need to stay here."

"I know you don't trust Damon, but−"

"I don't, but that has nothing to do with this. You and me, we are one of the few people who actually believe Damon. Who know that he could be telling the truth. Jenna isn't one of those people. She won't listen to Damon, Stefan. She'll let them nail down that coffin and she'll put her niece in the ground. She'll bury my best friend alive and there's nothing I can do about it. You, however, can stop it. You're the only one who's strong enough. You're the only one who could compel her if you have to."

"But Damon−"

"−will need help. I know. I'll go with him."

"You?"

"I might not seem like much, but I can handle vampires. I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"I don't know. I−"

"They'll bury her alive, Stefan," Bonnie said, her voice filled with emotion. "It's _Elena_ and they'll bury her alive."

His eyes turned soft. "Fine, but be careful."

Bonnie nodded before busting out the door, running after a vampire she never thought she'd run after.

A vampire who was already in his car, driving off.

_Crap._

Fully aware that she was about to piss off an already borderline psychotic monster, she dug her heels into the ground, raised her hands and screamed, "_Intereo Mobile!_"

* * *

"It's me."

Damon could hear the man's heart speed up on the other end of the line.

Good.

He was right to be scared.

"Mister Salvatore," he said, his voice filled with horror. "What can I do for you."

Damon shoved his keys into the ignition, starting his engine. "I need you to tell me if Alexander Hertz is staying there."

"Sir−"

"Oh, Bill," he snarled, clutching the wheel so hard it was bound to break under the pressure. "If you're about to tell me that you can't give out that information, I would strongly warn you against it! You know what I can do! You know what I _will _do! So do yourself a favor and tell me! Now!"

Bill swallowed hard. "Yes, he's here."

"Good boy," he hissed. "Call me if he leaves."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I−"

Damon hung up, slamming his foot down on the gas. There was no time to waste. Hertz was a _bite 'em and leave 'em _sort of guy. He never hung around after claiming a victim. And if Hertz disappeared, he _disappeared. _If he left Mystic Falls, there was no way Damon would find him again. And no Hertz meant no Elena.

He growled out loud, speeding up even more.

And then, his car gave up.

The thing just _died._

"What the−"

He saw her, then.

Standing on the parking lot.

Dropping her hands.

A smile on her face.

One second. That's all it took for Damon to reach her.

For Damon to have her slammed back against the funeral home.

For Damon to wrap his fingers around her neck.

"Wait," she grated, clawing at his hand. "I want to help."

"By boycotting my car?" he snarled, tightening his grip.

"I had to stop you."

"Why?"

She gasped for air, her voice barely a whisper when she said, "Because I want to go with you."

He released her, watching the witch confused. "What?"

"I want to go with you," Bonnie repeated between coughs.

"I don't have time for this. Whatever game you're playing, it will have to wait."

"There's no way you can start that car without me."

"Goddamn it, Bonnie!" he screamed. "I'm trying to save Elena!"

"I know and I'm your best shot at getting her back! I'm not some clumsy witch anymore, Damon! You of all people should know that! That thing I did with your head, that's just the tip of the iceberg! I could be useful!"

"You don't even know what I'm going to do!"

"No, but−"

"_No, but_ nothing! I can't risk you screwing this up, Bonnie! Elena's life depends on it!"

"I won't screw it up!"

Damon gnarled, taking an intimidating step towards her. "What if I need to kill to safe her? What if I need to rip a human's still beating heart out? Will you still back me up, then?"

"I−"

"Because if that's what it takes, I'll kill every living being in this backwards town, Bonnie! To get her back, I'll do anything!"

She raised her chin, her eyes hard on his. "That girl in there has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She's been there for me more times than I can count. And lately, I haven't been there for her. I let her down. But that ends tonight. I don't care who you have to kill, Damon. If it means getting her back, I'll help you dig their graves."

Damon could tell she was serious and for the first time, he saw why Elena was best friends with this witch. Bonnie was loyal. She would die for Elena and something told him Elena would do the same for her.

"Get in."

Bonnie smiled weakly and all but ran to the car, singing, "_Resurgum Mobile_."

_I'm going to regret this,_ Damon thought before spitting off with her into the night.

* * *

"Alexander Hertz?" Bonnie mumbled, staring at the drawing Elena had made. "He's a vampire?"

"He's not just _a _vampire," Damon said, running a red light. "He's the vampire other vampires are scared off. He's a myth amongst our kind."

"Really? He doesn't look like much."

"Neither do you."

"Point taken," she said, folding up the paper and shoving it in her jacket. "So, how is this vamp connected to Elena?"

"When I brought Elena home from the hospital, she told me a vampire had made them crash. I didn't believe her, because there were no puncture marks, so−"

"Right, there _were_ no wounds. How is that possible?"

"I don't know if any of this is actually true, but the legend goes that when Hertz was still human, his wife poisoned him. When he realized what she'd done, he went to a man who never showed his face during the day and who the other villagers believed to be an abomination."

"A vampire."

Damon nodded. "He asked to be turned into a creature of the night so he could take his vengeance on his wife."

"And the vampire agreed."

"Well, what can I say. Vampires like that kind of stuff."

"Charming. So he was turned−"

"And he went to kill his wife. However, in the middle of it, he changed his mind. He let her go."

"A vampire with a conscience."

"We all have a conscience, Bonnie," Damon said, switching gears. "Most of us just decide to turn it off."

"But Hertz didn't."

"No. Not at first anyway. He let his wife go and she recovered. Completely. Even the bite marks were gone in a matter of seconds. They just vanished. Hertz figured they'd been given a second chance. But she died a day later. She just collapsed. Sounds familiar?"

"Elena."

"Legend has it, that the poison that was in his system when he died survived the change, mutating somehow. He doesn't just bite his victims. He poisons them, leaving no trace."

"Two questions," Bonnie said, trying to ignore the insane speed they were travelling at. "If this vamp leaves no bite marks and his victims are always silenced one way or another, how do you know about him?"

"Vampire are arrogant, Bonnie."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't say."

"The point is," Damon continued, ignoring the subtle insult. "That when a vampire has a skill like his, he won't keep his mouth shut about it for long. Especially not if you get him drunk."

"You've met him?"

"Once. A long time ago."

"Second question," Bonnies said, her voice now trembling. "If he poisoned Elena, why did you say she's still alive?"

"Because when I met Hertz, I also met his wife."

"But, you said he'd killed−"

"I know."

"OK, I'm confused and a minute away from making your head explode, so you better explain!"

"From what I could gather back then, the poison doesn't kill. It just makes it look like the person is dead. In reality they're just frozen."

"And he unfroze his wife."

"Yes."

"How?"

"I don't know. That's what I have to find out."

"So we're going to see him?"

"Yes, we're going to see La Mela."

"La Mela?"

"It's Italian for−"

"−The Apple. I know. Not exactly a name that strikes fear into the heart of one's enemy."

"It should. You know Snow White?"

"The fairytale? Yes."

"Well, let's just say that in the story where the fairytale was based on, the girl didn't so much bite into the apple as The Apple bit into her."

"No way."

"Way."

"So, I guess all we need is True Love's kiss?"

Damon shook his head. "Snow only recovered in the story. In reality, that girl is still in a glass coffin somewhere, frozen for all eternity."

"OK," Bonnie whimpered, a chill creeping up her spine. "Maybe it _is_ a namethat strikes fear into the heart of one's enemy."

The car came to a halt in front of a creepy looking, wooden building. The sign outside read

_Cipka_

_bar/hostel_

_Privacy guaranteed_

"What is this place?" Bonnie asked, noticing the reinforced windows.

"A vampire safe haven."

"Seriously?"

Damon nodded. "There are places like this all over the globe. We can't exactly check in to a normal, daylight soaked hotel."

"A vampire safe haven," Bonnie mumbled. "Just what the world needed."

"Like witches don't have the exact same thing."

"Are you really going to compare witches to vampires?"

"No," he gnarled, unbuckling and turning in his seat to face her. "What I _am_ going to do, is put down some ground rules."

"Ground rules? I don't think−"

"Rule one," he cut her off. "You don't go in with me. You wait five minutes and then you follow. You sit down at the bar, you order yourself a drink and you don't talk to anyone."

"Why−"

"Rule two. Whatever you see in there, whatever you might find me doing, you don't react, you don't jump in."

"But−"

"And rule number three, if something happens to me−"

"I get out of there and get myself to safety," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Actually no," Damon gnarled. "You need to keep in mind that we're here for one thing and one thing alone: Elena. Which means if something happens to me, it's up to you. You can't let Hertz leave. Once he's gone, it's over and Elena will never wake up. If I can't get him to tell me what the antidote is, if I die trying, you need to get it out of him. Understood? Do whatever you need to do. Don't hold back."

Bonnie smiled weakly, nodding. "OK."

"Good," he said, getting out of the car. "Five minutes!"

Determined, Damon stalked to the entrance, burying the rage inside of him. He needed to keep his mind clear for what he was about to do. He needed to focus.

"Mister Salvatore."

The small, bolding man behind the counter tried to smile, but the pure panic was written all over his face.

Damon didn't smile back. "Where is he, Bill?"

He pointed at the door to his right. Damon didn't waste any time.

The bar looked just like he remembered.

Dark.

Old.

And packed with vampires.

He only had eyes for one, though. And he spotted him immediately.

Alexander Hertz was sitting in the corner of the room, a crystal glass in his hand with a thick, red liquid in it. He still looked the same.

Blond.

Slick.

Dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a white shirt and a simple black jacket over it.

He was talking to the woman beside him, a woman in a low cut black dress, a woman Damon recognized. Abigail Hertz. Alexander's red headed wife.

They looked normal, in love. Nothing gave away that at one point they'd tried to murder each other. Nothing gave away that they were now two of the most ruthless killers that walked the earth.

All of a sudden, Hertz stopped talking and looked right at him. Smiling.

"Damon!" he cheered, getting up with his arms opened in a welcoming gesture. "My old friend!"

"Alexander," he said, making his way to him.

Being that close to the vampire who'd hurt Elena and not destroying him, physically hurt Damon, but he knew he had no choice. Not if he wanted her back.

And he wanted her back.

He needed her back.

"Long time no see," the woman said, a grin on her red lips. "Sit, sit."

He did, the smile on his face feeling so unnatural, so wrong. But he had to win their trust. He had to act normal.

"God, Damon Salvatore," Alexander said, signaling to the waitress to bring Damon a drink. "We haven't seen you since−"

"Japan," Abigail sang, leaning back. "1877. The Satsuma Rebellion."

"Mmmmmm," Alexander murmured. "The mayhem, the panic."

"The samourai swords."

Alexander licked his lips, running a finger over his wife's arm. "Weapons turn her on."

"Not just weapons," she sang, shooting her husband a heated look.

Damon coughed, needing them to stop.

Immediately.

This reminded him too much of her.

Of how he felt around her.

His control was slipping.

Luckily, Alexander understood his hint and let go of Abigail, taking another sip from his drink. "So, Salvatore, what brings you here anyway? Mystic Fall doesn't seem your kind of town."

"Actually, I was born here."

"You don't strike me as the nostalgic type," Alexander said, his tone serious.

He knew Damon was lying. And he didn't like it. It made him suspicious. And that's something Damon couldn't have. He was going to have to tell the truth. Or at least the partial truth.

Behind him, the door opened and he could sense the witch's presence.

"A girl," he confessed, seeing Elena's face. "I'm here because of a girl."

"Really?" Abigail said in a sing-song voice. "Don't tell me Damon Salvatore has finally found himself a Mate."

Damon just smiled, digging his nails into his legs. _God,_ he wanted to kill them. Luckily, Bonnie distracted him by ordering a diet coke. A freaking diet coke. Why not just wear a shirt that read, _I don't belong here_.

"And you?" he asked, keeping his voice calm. "What brings you two here?"

"Actually," Alexander rumbled. "Also a girl."

"Is that so?"

"Are we really going to talk business?" Abigail whimpered.

If Damon's heart still beat, it would've stopped then. "Business?"

Alexander nodded, running a hand through his blond hair. "I've been doing some hits for outside contractors."

"He's a sell-out."

Alexander shot his wife a deadly glare. "Careful, sweetheart. It's your fault I even have to do this, remember," he turned his attention back to Damon. "She might be a vampire, but when it comes to spending money she's just like any other woman."

"Someone hired you to kill _a girl_?"

He'd almost said _to kill Elena_.

_Pay attention, Salvatore. _

Alexander nodded.

"Who?"

That earned him a frown from Abigail.

"I don't know," Alexander said, not sharing his wife's suspicion. "I get a call, money is transferred and I do the hit."

"Or try to."

Hertz growled. "Tread carefully, Aby."

"You didn't kill her?" Damon asked casually.

"No. I was draining her−"

His nails pierced his jeans.

"−and _man_ she tasted good−"

He dug into his skin, drawing blood.

"−and that smell−"

"Get to the point, sweetheart," Abigail snarled, voicing his own thoughts.

"This fucking group of hikers came out of the woods before I could finish the job. They'd already called 911."

"You could've killed the hikers," Abigail said, her voice hard.

"Killing a dozen people won't go unnoticed, sweetheart," he snarled. "And we don't want to get noticed, now do we?"

"I just think letting her live is a sign of weakness."

"You think I'm going weak?" he hissed. "That I'm showing compassion?"

She shrugged.

"Abigail, you should know, better than anyone, that there's nothing compassionate about letting a human live after my bite."

"Because they only have a few hours before they fall into a deep sleep they won't wake up from," Damon said, gulping down his glass of O-positive.

"Sleep?" Abigail laughed, her red hair bouncing up and down. "I wish that's all his bite did."

Damon could hear Bonnie stir at the bar. She was listening in. He didn't know how, though. She was too far away too hear. Nevertheless, she was panicking. And he knew how she felt. Like someone had just ripped her heart out.

"I thought you just fell asleep," he said, hoping they didn't pick up on the tremor in his voice.

Abigail shook her head, still smiling. But something in her eyes had died. That spark of enjoyment was gone, leaving only something dark and scared.

"When the poison starts to work, you can actually feel your body shutting down. You can actually tell when your heart beats its last beat. And then it's like someone just switches you off. Your body just gives up. And there's nothing you can do about it. That's what I remember most. The helplessness. The realization that you're about to die and that you can't stop it. And then you do. You die. But you're not gone. You just lie there, thinking you're _supposed_ to be gone. You see people coming up to you, panicking, screaming for help, but you don't understand why, because you're still there. And you want to tell them, but you can't. No words come out. You want to get up, but your legs don't work. And then, they close your eyes, trapping you into complete darkness. But you can still hear. You can hear it when they put you in the coffin, when they close the lid. When they lower you into the ground. And you're screaming the entire time, begging for them to stop, but they don't hear you. They never hear you," A single tear trickled down the woman's cheek at the memory. Alexander grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly. "By the time you finally give up," she continued. "You realize you'll be trapped in darkness forever and you wish he would've just killed you."

_She's been in there the whole time,_ Damon thought, the monster inside him breaking through his stone cold facade. _She was there when I fed her my blood. She was there when those doctors send over a thousand volts through her body. She was there when they changed her clothes. When they put her in that coffin. When people said goodbye to her. She must be _so _scared. _

_Damon, stop! _

Bonnie's voice startled him. He could still sense her sitting on the barstool, but he could hear her clear as day. In his head.

_What the hell?_ He snarled at her. _How−_

_That doesn't matter now! All that matters is that even I can tell you're losing it, Damon! Pull yourself together! We're here for one thing and one thing alone, remember! _

_Elena._

_Exactly. So, behave like the vampire we both know you are and thrive on the pain of humans!_

_No,_ he hissed, watching both the Hertz's look at him in a way he'd been trying to avoid. _It's too late. Their guards are up and I don't have time to gain their trust again. Not now I know Elena's in there, alone. New strategy._ _When I give you the signal, you do that head explode thing on the red head. Got it?_

_What's the signal?_

_Trust me, you'll know._

"You could forgive him for what he did to you?" Damon asked Abigail.

She nodded, smiling at her husband. "Eventually. I can't live without him."

Damon leaned back, a sneer on his lips. "I know what you mean."

"Do you? That's very un-Damon like."

He sniffed, playing with his empty, crystal glass. "Tell me about it."

"So, what happened?" Alexander asked, his eyes piercing his.

"_She_ happened. One day, I had nothing to live for. I couldn't care less if I died. I'd lived long enough," a smile spread across his face when he said, "and then I saw her. I met her. I talked to her and by the time I realized she was getting too close for comfort, it was already too late. She was in and I couldn't get her out. Believe me, I've tried. Drinking, fucking, partying, killing. It didn't work. She was always there. And suddenly, I found myself spending my days wishing, hoping I could just catch a glimpse of her. Of her smile. Of her eyes. Because I thought that's all I would ever get. Glimpses. And then, one day, I got more than a glimpse. I got her. All of her."

"Sounds like you're whipped."

Damon snorted, cocking an eyebrow. "Oh, I am. So why am I telling you guys this?"

"I don't know," Alexander said. "Why?"

"Because−" Damon said, his voice stone cold. "−two days ago, _you_ tried to kill my one reason for being and now, I'm going to kill yours."

It took them exactly two second before they understood that the vampire sitting across from them wasn't a friend. But an enemy. And a very dangerous one at that.

Alexander's and Abigail's eyes widened at the same time, their fangs popping out, ready to attack.

_Now!_

Bonnie had clearly heard, because one minute, Abigail was almost at his throat and the next she was throwing her head back, pressing down on her temples, screaming her lunges out.

Alexander ceased his attack on Damon and grabbed his wife, watching her in a way Damon recognized all too well. But he had no mercy. If he had to, he would let Bonnie pop her head like a grape. All he cared about was Elena.

"Damon," Alexander screamed, his eyes feral. "Stop this!"

"Right now," Damon said in a calm voice. "Every blood vessel in her brain is exploding. It's excruciating. A human would die from it right away, but we're not human. We recover. Fast. Too fast in this case. Her brain will just keep healing and exploding and healing and exploding until she longs for the days in that coffin. Until she longs for death."

"You son of a−"

"It hurts, doesn't it!" Damon gnarled. "Seeing the woman that's everything to you in pain? Seeing her die right in front of you, knowing there's nothing you can do about it, knowing you're about to lose her. Forever."

"If she dies, I'll kill you."

"Funny. I was just about to say the same thing."

"What do you want?"

"The antidote. I want you to tell me how I can get Elena back."

Alexander's lips pulled up over his teeth in a deadly snarl, "No."

_Turn it up!_

Abigail's screams almost shattered the windows, her nails digging into the wooden floors, leaving long, deep scratch marks.

"OK, OK!" he hissed. "Release her and I'll give you what you want."

"Give me what I want and I'll release her."

Shooting him a deadly glare, Alexander grabbed his empty glass and put it on the ground. Damon watched victoriously as the vampire bit down on his wrist and held the wound above the crystal until it was half full with pitch black blood.

"There," he snarled. "Give her this and she'll be fine."

Carefully, Damon grabbed the antidote. "If you're lying, I'll come back and you won't get a second change."

He nodded, his eyes shooting fire. "We're even now," Alexander snarled. "But if you and I ever cross paths again, you're dead."

"I understand," Damon said, genuinely meaning it.

He turned away from his old friends.

"Hey!" Hertz yelled behind him. "Release her!"

"When I'm safe."

_Let's go, Bonnie. But try to keep the spell on the woman. _

The witch got up, trailing after him.

It was only when they were in the car that Damon said, "Let her go."

Bonnie did, her muscles visibly relaxing.

"Are you OK?" he asked, watching her tired face.

"Yeah," she whispered. "That just took a lot out of me."

He nodded, handing her the blood filled glass. "You did good in there."

Bonnie looked at him, startled. "Thanks. So did you."

"I didn't really do anything. You saved her."

"We wouldn't even have known she had to be saved without you."

Damon's lips pulled up.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just never thought you and I would be having this argument."

Bonnie laughed, the stress of the night falling of her shoulders. "Me neither."

"You're not as bad as I thought, witch."

"The jury's still out on you, vampire."

He smiled. "Oh, I'm exactly as bad as you think I am," he looked at her then and said in a serious voice, "But I'll always do right by her."

"I believe that. I just don't know if I like it."

"You don't have to like it."

Bonnie nodded, frowning. "So, the antidote was his blood, huh?"

_Nice change of subject._

"It better be. Otherwise I'm hunting those bastards down again."

"Count me in."

They shared a look, a smile on their lips and disappeared into the night, heading for the girl the both cared about above anything else.

* * *

"Stefan, this is ridiculous! I can't call off a burial without a good reason!"

"There_ is_ a good reason!"

"OK, tell me!"

**"SHE'S NOT DEAD!"**

Jenna rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. They'd been having this discussion for over two hours now, but Stefan just wouldn't back down. He wanted to believe his brother. So did she. But she couldn't let herself believe. She couldn't let herself hope. Because there was no hope. Her niece was gone and she wasn't coming back.

"Stefan, please, I know it's hard to accept, but she's dead."

"Jenna, Damon said−"

"I don't care what said!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "It's just not possible, Stefan! Doctors have declared her dead! She's not breathing! She's been cold for two days! She's gone!"

Clutching his brown hair, Stefan glanced around the−now almost empty−funeral home. The only ones there were Caroline, Matt, Jeremy, Jenna and him and the only one he had to convince, the only one who could stop the burial in the morning wasn't caving.

He was going to have to compel her and he really hated compulsion. Not only because manipulating one's mind was immoral, but also because his animal diet made his compulsion weaker than, let's say, Damon's. There was a good chance Jenna would remember what he'd done at some point. And then she would know about vampires, something Elena had wanted to avoid more than anything. But she wasn't leaving him a choice.

"Jenna," Stefan said, grabbing her shoulders. "Look at me."

Just when her eyes found his, just when his pupils started dilating, the doors flung open with a loud bang.

"I've never been more happy to see you," Stefan said, watching his brother and Bonnie storm in.

Damon didn't say anything back. He just headed for the room Elena was still lying in, a glass with something black inside clutched in his hand.

Everyone followed. Stefan could hear all their hearts beating out of control and he prayed there would soon be one more heartbeat thrown in the mix.

When they entered, Bonnie was already holding Elena's head.

"Ready?" Damon asked.

The witch nodded.

Slowly, Damon lowered the glass to Elena's lips, letting the black goo slip inside her mouth. He didn't stop until the last drop had disappeared.

"Has it gone down?" Bonnie asked.

Damon opened Elena's mouth further, peering inside. "Yes."

Never had there been a silence as heavy as the one that followed.

Every pair of eyes was focused on the girl in the coffin.

Every breath was held.

But nothing happened.

"OK," Damon snarled after a long minute. "Bonnie, get back in the car."

"Got it," the witch hissed, straightening up. "I'm going to kill that ass−"

A loud, strained gasp filled the room, shutting her up.

Startled, Damon looked down, staring right into two hazel eyes.

For a second, no one reacted. It was just too unreal. This couldn't be happening. Could it?

Damon was the first one to realize it could.

"Elena," he breathed, cupping her face roughly to make sure she was real. When he felt the heath rush back into her cheeks, he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her to his chest, touching her, smelling her, stroking her hair.

"Oh, thank you," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I−"

Her tiny, weak voice made him back away a little so he could look her in the eye. But he didn't let go of her. Not yet.

"I know you went through a lot," Damon said, his voice trembling with happiness. She was back. She was really back. And warm. And smelling just like she used to smell. She was Elena again. _His_ Elena. "You're fine now, sweetheart. I promise."

She blinked confused. "Damon?"

"Yes," he said, exhaling relieved. "It's me."

"Damon Salvatore, right?" she asked, frowning. "You're Stefan's brother. I met you at the Boarding House."

_Oh, God. No._

Slowly, he released her, his eyes wide, his insides turning. "Elena?"

"Why am I in a coffin?" she continued, her eyes darting around wildly. "What is going−"

She finally spotted the others in the room. She finally spotted his brother. And if Damon had thought that nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach couldn't get worse, he was proven wrong when he saw her face lid up as she sang, "Stefan!"

Damon backed off even more, turning away from the girl who was slowly breaking his heart.

"Hey," Stefan said, taking Damon's place at her side.

"Stefan, what's going on? Why is everyone looking at me like that? Why am I in a coffin?" she lowered her voice and whispered. "Why was Damon holding me?"

Damon closed his eyes at that, feeling his heart shatter.

"Baby," Stefan said softly. "What's the last thing you remember?"

She shook her head, her eyes closed. "Uhm, I remember we were deciding on what movie to rent and then−" she sighed. "−nothing."

Damon growled under his breath. He knew what movie she was taking about. The movie they'd end up renting was the one she'd told him she'd fallen asleep at _that night_.

That first night they'd really talked.

That night it had all started.

That night she couldn't remember.

Or any night after that.

Any night with him.

_No, this isn't happening. _

"What happened, Stefan?"

"I'll tell you when we're home."

She nodded and Stefan carefully lifted her out of the wooden box. The second her feet hit the ground, Jeremy flung his arms around her, sobbing like a little kid.

"Hey, Jer, what's wrong?"

The boy started laughing hysterically, tightening his grip on his sister. Elena hugged him back, her face one big question mark.

"OK, clearly, something happened," she mumbled when Jeremy let her go. "Let's get me home so you can start explaining."

She started towards the door, but when she took her first step, her legs gave in. Stefan was right there to hold her up, but that hadn't stopped Damon from flinging at her, too, supporting her on the other side. Elena frowned at that, watching him confused. She really didn't remember that this was normal now. That Damon touching her, helping her was the most logical thing in the world. So, it wasn't surprising that she shrugged away from his touch, pressing herself close to Stefan and putting as much distance between her and her boyfriend's evil brother as she possibly could.

"Take me home, Stefan," she said in that voice that had recently been reserved for Damon.

Stefan nodded, not looking his brother in the eye, and walked away, leaving Damon alone in the funeral home feeling like he'd lost her all over again.

* * *

**OK, without giving too much away, let me tell you guys this much: I hate amnesia :p, so I'm not planning on dragging this twist out! **

**Having said that, what did you thing? Let me know! **

**xxx LustAndLove**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Im SO sorry I've disappeared for such a long time! I've been having some hectic weeks at work, not to mention there's a new love interest in my life, so I've been 'busy'. I hope you can forgive me and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! And I can guarantee I won't go missing again! The next chapter is already in progress! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_"There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not."__  
_-La Rochefoucauld

"This isn't taking me home."

Elena had been pacing back and forth for over half an hour now while Stefan stood by the door, keeping watch, peeking through the blinds into the white hall.

"Just humor me, sweetheart. I want to know you're OK."

She sniffed. "Oh, I'm fine. Sure, I just found out I was bitten by a poisonous vampire, the entire town thinks I'm dead, I was almost buried alive and I can't remember anything that happened over the past two months, but all in all, I'm great, thanks."

He looked at her then, that soft, sympathetic look in his eyes. "A doctor will be here in a second."

"I don't need a doctor. I need Jenna and Jeremy and Bonnie," she smiled weakly, cupping his face. "I need you. Please, let's go."

Stefan got a look in his eyes she'd never seen before, a look she couldn't quite figure out. Softly, he put his hands over hers, caressing her skin softly. "Just a little while longer. For me."

She sighed dramatically, stepping away from him and plopping down on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest.

Stefan moved to sit by her side. "An hour, max. Then we're out of here. I promise"

Elena nodded, smiling weakly. "There's just so much I don't understand."

"Then ask me. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"OK," she said, turning her entire body towards him. "When you and Bonnie got the antidote, did this Hertz guy say something about why he targeted me?"

"He's a vampire, sweetheart. That's his motive."

She swallowed hard. Stefan put his hand over hers, squeezing it softly. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Yeah," she said, frowning. "What the hell happened to Damon?"

Stefan squirmed a little, mumbling, "What do you mean?"

"Last thing I remember, he wasn't exactly around. And when he was, we avoided him and he avoided us."

"True."

"So why is he compelling pretty much everyone in town within an inch of their sanity to help us out?"

Stefan shrugged. "Simple. He's not."

"But he's been out there for hours now−"

"−covering his own ass," Stefan finished. "He doesn't want anyone to know that there are vampires in Mystic Falls and when a girl rises from the death, questions will be asked. Questions that would make blaming animals for the killing and maiming that's been going on a whole lot more difficult."

"So he's still him?" she asked, not sure why that stung a little. "He's still a murderer?"

"He's still very much Damon."

"I guess some things never change."

"Some things never should," he breathed, his gaze turning intense as he leaned in.

When he took her lips between his, she ignored how strange it felt, how different from the last time she remembered kissing him. But that was probably just a side effect from what she'd been through. Everything would return to normal soon enough. In an effort to convince herself, she deepened their kiss, letting her tongue dance around his. He reacted, grabbing her waist, pulling her closer to him. Clearly, Stefan didn't have the same feeling in the pit of his stomach that something wasn't right.

_This is Stefan,_ she thought, letting him pull her onto his lap so she straddled him. _This is the man I loved. _

_Love! _

_The man I _love_! _

Startled by her own slip-up, she broke the kiss.

"What?" he asked, his breath ragged. "Is something wrong?"

_Yes._

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Everything's fine."

He smiled, his brown, warm gaze piercing hers. "I love you so much, Elena."

"Good," she sang, leaning in for another kiss. However, before she could taste him again, Stefan stopped her.

"And you love me, right?" he asked, never releasing her eyes.

Elena frowned, cupping his face. "Off course I do, Stefan."

"Always?"

"Always," she whispered before claiming his lips again.

Stefan was the one to deepen the kiss now, pushing her even closer to his chest, his fingers digging into her back, his legs−

There was a loud bang behind them and even though Elena wanted to move, Stefan kept his hands on her hips, keeping her in place.

"The doctor's here," a familiar voice growled behind her.

When Elena turned her head to look at him, she saw how right Stefan had been. Damon really was still a murderer and he looked about ready to murder them right there and then. She couldn't remember a time when she'd seen him−or anyone for that matter−look _that_ savage, _that_ ferocious. If it wasn't for Stefan and the man in the white coat beside Damon, she would've actually feared for her life.

"Good."

Elena didn't understand why Stefan smiled arrogantly when he'd said that or why Damon's nostrils were flaring in responds.

She tried to move again, but Stefan's grip on her had tightened even more.

"I can't talk to the doctor from your lap," Elena said, sweetly pulling his fingers of her hips. "Let go, Stefan."

"Yes, Stefan," Damon hissed in a cold voice. "_Let. Go._"

Stefan nodded, releasing her…but not before pressing a last sweet kiss on her lips. And when he did, Elena could've sworn she heard a growl behind her.

"OK, miss Gilbert," the raven haired man said when she finally sat back down on the bed and Stefan had moved to make place for the young doctor. "How are you feeling?"

"She's feeling fine, but her heartbeat is weak," Stefan answered from behind the man, earning a glare from Elena.

"And I understand you're experiencing difficulties with your memory?"

"She doesn't remember anything that happened in the last two months," Damon said.

"And is miss Gilbert having difficulties with her voice as well?" the doctor asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No," Elena said in a strong voice. "I'm not."

"Then maybe we could do this in private?"

"Great idea," Elena sang, shooting the Salvatore's a meaningful look.

Stefan shook his head. "I'm not leaving."

"Me neither."

Elena frowned at that. She understood why Stefan didn't want to go. He loved her. But why did Damon want to be there? Was he afraid she'd slip up and tip the doctor off about vampires?

Elena sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'll be fine. And you don't have to go far, just wait out in the hall."

"Elena−"

"Stefan, this was your idea! And I'm letting him check me out! But I can't concentrate with the both off you standing there acting all alpha male! So, wait outside or I'm leaving!"

Stefan clearly wasn't happy about it, but he left anyway and Damon followed him. However, before Damon shut the door behind him, he shot a look over his shoulder and smiled.

Since when did Damon Salvatore smile?

At her?

* * *

There had been a time when Damon had been forced to share a woman with his brother. Katherine had made it clear she wasn't going to choose between the Salvatores, so he'd accepted it, he'd tolerated it. But now, doing the same thing with Elena was unimaginable. Seeing her sit on Stefan's lap, watch him like she used to watch _him_, kiss him like she used to kiss _him_…

The door closed behind him and at once, Damon flung forward, pushing Stefan against the wall, a loud growl emanating from his chest.

"You son of a bitch!" he yelled, tightening his fingers around Stefan's neck. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Stefan growled back, pushing against Damon's chest so hard he staggered back.

"Me?" he sang. "I'm just kissing my girlfriend. Or actually, she was kissing me. God, the things that girl can do with her tongue."

Stefan closed his eyes, making a moaning sound as he bit his lip. That was too much for Damon. His vision turned red. His fangs pushed to break free. And before he could stop himself, he flung at Stefan again, ready to slam his brother's head into the wall until he felt even an inkling of the pain Damon felt inside.

But Stefan had seen him coming and turned the tables on him, pressing Damon against the wall instead, his fingers buried in his neck.

"You're getting slow brother," Stefan sang, smiling.

"Compelling a whole town will do that to you," Damon snarled. "Not that you'd know."

"Funny. Not as funny as this, though."

With a flick of his wrist, Stefan banged Damon's head against the wall so hard he could feel blood run down his neck.

"Painful, isn't it? Being the weaker one?"

Another flick.

Another bang.

More blood.

"You know," Damon snarled, smiling. "You can keep slamming my head into the wall until hell freezes over, but nothing will change the fact that she left you. For me. Elena chose me. Elena _wanted_ me."

Stefan laughed, running his free hand through his brown hair. "Not _this_ Elena! This is Elena from two month ago! She doesn't know you! She doesn't trust you!"

"For now."

"Are you thinking about telling her, brother? Go ahead. Tell her she was leaving me for you. Tell her she was leaving the man she loves for a man who's guts she hates. Let's see how she responds to that."

"She'll believe me."

"No, she won't! And even if she does, there's something else to consider."

"Which is?"

"1908."

Damon swallowed hard, blinking.

"You of all people should know the mind is a fragile thing, Damon. If you're not careful, you might damage hers."

"Or not."

"Or not," Stefan said, slowly releasing his grip on his brother. "So tell her. Risk it. I mean, there's only a fifty-fifty percent chance you'll screw her up permanently. The old you would've liked those odds."

There was a long pause, until Damon finally snarled, "Fine. I won't tell her. But don't get a happy just yet. She'll remember me. Eventually."

"Maybe."

They glared at each other, both fighting their natural urge to rip each other's throat out.

"What's going on here?"

Stefan and Damon turned their attention to the girl in the doorway.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Stefan said, making Damon's rage almost pool over. "We were just having a brotherly argument."

Her eyes found Damon's bloody neck. "I can see that."

"I'm fine," Damon said, hope flaring when he noticed her concern.

Elena frowned, her brown eyes confused on his.

"So, what did the doctor say?" Stefan asked, successfully drawing Elena's attention away from his brother.

Elena took a deep breath, shrugging. "He said that I'm in ship shape condition except for the amnesia."

"How long before you get your memory back?" Damon asked.

"According to the doctor it's a result of the head trauma and it should go away when my brain is done healing. Which he says should be soon since I'm exhibited no other signs of brain trauma."

"Ok, so that's good news, right?" Damon said, making Elena frown again.

"It would be," she mumbled. "If it was true."

"You think he's lying?" Stefan asked, the hope in his voice thick.

"_He's _not lying," she said, clearly not noticing. "We are."

Stefan frowned. "I don't get it."

"No surprise there," Damon mumbled.

"Oh, and you understand, Sherlock?" Stefan growled.

"Actually, yes. This doctor is making a diagnosis based on what I put in his head. He thinks Elena just woke up from a coma. She didn't."

"Exactly," Elena mumbled, a lump in her throat. "I'm pretty sure that if I told him I got amnesia after the poison of a mythical creature was crawling through my veins for two days, his diagnosis would change."

Stefan's eyes softened. "Elena−"

"I know I shouldn't give up hope, but the truth is that you can't be sure I'll get my memory back. This might be because of Hertz and it might be permanent."

"His wife was poisoned and she remembered everything," Damon jumped in.

"Yes, but his wife is a vampire. Maybe she got those memories back after she was turned. You know, like people remember everything they were compelled to forget when they turn."

Damon smiled. "You're way too smart for your own good."

She smiled back, feeling her cheeks heat up under his stare.

_What the hell is that about? _She thought, gazing into his blue eyes, blue eyes that used to frighten her. But not now. Not anymore…

"Can we go home now,−" she asked, breaking eye contact with Damon. "−Stefan?"

He nodded, curling an arm around her waist. "Sure."

As Elena walked away, she could feel his eyes on her back.

And oddly enough, she liked it.

* * *

It felt strange being back home.

In her bedroom.

Scared for some reason, Elena stepped inside. Her room had changed since she'd last seen it. She'd bought new sheets sometime in the last two months. Crisp white ones. They were tussled though, so she'd clearly given up on making her bed.

And instead of her pajama's, a white nightshirt hung over her bedpost.

A man's shirt.

Frowning, she grabbed it.

She could immediately tell it wasn't one of Stefan's. Wrong size. And her brother was more a t-shirt kind of guy.

_So who's shirt is this?_

Her mind racing, she let the fabric run through her fingers. A whiff of a familiar smell reached her senses and at once, there was a push in her mind, like something was trying to break through to the surface. And for a split second she could've sworn she saw an image of herself running through the streets, bare footed, crying, without any pants, but with a shirt on. The shirt that was now in her hand.

Swallowing hard, she sat down on the bed. That's when she noticed the torn floorboard. Placing the shirt beside her, she kneeled down, reaching in the hollow space underneath. There was nothing inside, but there had been. The dust had been disturbed.

"Weird."

"What is?"

Elena jumped at Stefan's voice, clasping her chest. "God, you scared me."

"Well, I _am_ a creature of the night."

She laughed, rubbing her eyes. "I'm terrified."

"No," he said, smiling. "You're exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"I know you are. But it was a long day and you look tired."

"You're a real charmer, aren't you."

He shook his head. "Go and sit down, sweetheart. Rest."

She nodded, sitting down on the bench by her window. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in beautiful colors. She loved this part of her room. The big window, the bench, the fluffy pillows, the amazing view. She used to sit there for hours, watching the sun rise or set or just watching the people pass by, going about their lives. It was comforting to see that no matter what happened in her own life, the world outside still kept spinning. Smiling, she sank deeper into the pile of pillows behind her.

"Auw!"

"What?"

"Something is poking me," she hissed, reaching behind her, pulling out a thick book. She 'd never seen it before. And she would've remembered an aquamarine cover showing a man being eaten by a snake.

_Since when do I read Anne Rice?_

Shrugging, she put the book on the floor. She had other things on her mind than her choice of literature.

"Hey, Stefan?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Did we get in a fight recently?"

"A fight?"

"A bad one? One that made me run out, half naked, crying?"

"No, sweetheart. We never had that kind of fights."

_That's what I was afraid of._

"Could you get me my sketchbook? It's in the nightstand."

He was by her side in a second, handing her the black book.

"Did you remember something?" he asked, grabbing her legs and sitting down underneath them.

She shook her head, her pencil gliding over the paper. "No, I don't think so."

Stefan reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," she said, smiling. "There's just nothing to tell."

"Are you sure? I−"

"Stefan," she cut him off. "I just want to draw. I don't want to talk. Not unless you do most of the talking."

She gave him a pointed look, but he just shook his head, sighing. "I told you in the car. I can't."

"But−"

"It's safer for you to remember on your own, sweetheart."

"The doctor didn't say anything about−"

"I'm not risking it."

Glaring, Elena pulled her legs away from him.

"Come on, don't be mad."

"How can I not be mad? My mind is one black, gaping hole and not only are _you_ not willing to tell me about the last two months, you've told everyone who still remembers the truth that they can't tell me either."

"It's−"

"−safer," she mumbled. "Yeah, you said that already."

She returned to her sketchbook, her eyes still angry.

"There was this girl in 1908," Stefan said, making her pencil come to a halt. "Me and Damon were not who we are now. Well, I wasn't. We met this girl. Beautiful. About to become a nun."

"And you killed her?" Elena asked, her voice shaky.

"No, we didn't. We used her. For blood. For _entertainment_. When we tried to compel her into forgetting about ever meeting us, her mind reacted in a way we hadn't seen before."

"What happened?"

"She remembered the truth as well as the lie. And her mind couldn't cope. She broke. Within the week, she was admitted into a psychiatric hospital. Within the month, she was just a shell of her own self. She didn't sleep. She didn't speak. She didn't eat. She just sat in a patted cell, staring out in front of her. Within the year she was dead. All because her mind didn't respond like it should've."

"You mean all because two vampires tried to make her their plaything."

Stefan's eyes dropped and Elena immediately regretted her harsh words. She knew his past tore Stefan apart every second of every day. He didn't need her rubbing it in.

Slowly, she put her legs back on his lap, running a hand over his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"I deserved it."

"No," she whispered. "You didn't. You're not that person anymore. You're not The Ripper."

"I still deserved it."

"Stefan−"

"The point is that I won't do anything that could harm you. Your mind will heal on its own."

"Or not."

"Or not," he agreed. "But losing two months is better than losing everything."

"But−"

"Get some sleep."

The discussion was clearly over.

"I told you, I'm not tired."

"Just try."

"Can't we go out?"

"What? You begged me to take you home."

"Yes, but I've been inside ever since I woke up and I need some air. Let's just take a short walk."

"We'll take a walk tomorrow. You need to rest now."

"God, stop!" she snarled. "Just stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop talking to me like I'm five years old! I can take care of myself!"

"This coming from the girl who just woke up in a coffin!"

Elena gasped, rubbing her forehead.

"I'm sorry. I just think it's safer for you to stay in tonight."

She swallowed hard. "Fine."

"You're mad."

"No."

"Yes, you are."

She counted to ten before her next responds, just so she could think of something else to say than the string of curse words that were on the tip of her tongue.

"No, I'm not mad," she eventually said, her voice leveled. "I just think you were right. I need some sleep."

He smiled. "Then close your eyes and I'll be right here. You'll be safe."

She smiled back, doing as he'd asked.

After a few minutes, she steadied her breath, making it slow and soft.

After half an hour, she heard his breath steady as well.

And after five more minutes, she was out the door and into the night.

* * *

_God, she's beautiful._

Damon kept to the shadows, making sure she didn't see him. After all, she wouldn't understand why he was there. Why he was following her. Why he'd been following her ever since she'd left the hospital.

With Stefan.

A breeze blew her hair back, making her smell even thicker.

Pushing back a snarl, Damon shoved his hands in his jeans, fighting the urge to go to her, to pull her in his arms. Which is something he would've been able to do now…if she hadn't lost her memory. He finally would've been with her.

All the time.

In public.

Everybody would've seen this amazing, strong, smart, gorgeous girl was his.

But now he was hiding in the darkness, again, wanting her from a distance. Nothing had changed. Except maybe this time around, he knew what he was missing. He knew what it was like to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her skin against his.

A growl escaped his lips.

Elena heard. Suddenly, she turned on her heels, her body tense as she peered into the darkness, searching for something.

Searching for him.

She knew she was being followed. He was glad to see her senses were still sharp. But no human senses could pick up on a vampire who was trying to stay hidden, no matter how sharp they were. So, after a while she gave up on her search. But she did double her pace.

_Where is she going?_ he thought after following her for another twenty minutes.

And then they reached the main road and he knew.

"What are you doing here, Elena?" he asked, unable to keep quiet any longer.

The girl jumped, her eyes wide when she saw him.

"Have you been following me?"

He just smiled. "You shouldn't be out here. Alone."

"I'm not alone," she said, reaching in her bag an pulling out a stake.

Damon laughed. "You think that's going to help you?"

"When push comes to−"

He was on her before she could finish, slapping the stake out of her hand.

"−shove."

He smiled, his blue eyes running over her in a way she liked way too much.

"That's how much a stake will do for you," he said, his voice deeper than before. "It's useless unless you know how to use it."

Elena swallowed, trying to keep her voice strong, even though he was so close. Too close. "Stake. Heart. It's not rocket science."

"And yet, if I was a threat, I could've ripped your throat out."

"_If_ you were a threat?"

His smile dropped.

"Sorry," she whispered, the sad look on his face ripping her heart out for some reason.

_Wait. Why am I apologizing? This is Damon._

Before she could think about it further, he grabbed her hand, putting it on his chest. Something inside her fired to life, something strangely familiar.

"Damon," she whispered. "What are you−"

"You feel that?" he asked, his eyes soft. "That's a sternum. A solid plate of bone."

He twirled her underneath the arm he was holding, pushing her back against his chest.

The fingers of his free hand caressed the skin underneath her ribs, causing shivers to run up and down her spine.

"Right here," he rumbled, his breath hot in her ear. "Right below the ribcage. That's the spot. That's your way to a vampire's heart."

"Good to know," she whispered, wondering why she wasn't scared, why she wasn't screaming for help at this point. And most of all, wondering why her heart was speeding up under his touch.

Before she could stop him, his fingers disappeared from her side and he let go of her, putting more distance between them.

Why did she hate that?

"So?" he asked, a strained note to his voice. "Why are you here?"

She shrugged, facing him again. Had his eyes been that dark before?

"This is where it all began, right? Or where it all ended."

He nodded.

"It's so weird. There's no trace of the accident left. It's like nothing happened."

"If it's any consolation, your blood is still here. I can smell it on the pavement."

She smiled. "Strangely enough, that's not a consolation at all."

He smiled back. "Well, I tried."

"Yes, you did," she said, tipping her head. "Why, though? Why are trying? Why are you following me?"

"You were just attacked. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

"Yes," she said, her eyes piercing his. "But why should that someone be you? I mean, the last time I saw you, you didn't say two words to me and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have cared whether I lived or died."

"Trust me," he said, his gaze intense. "The last time you saw me, it wasn't like that. Not at all."

"What _was_ it like?"

He shook his head, slowly, grinding his teeth. "I can't tell you."

"Not you, too."

"Believe me, -" he snarled. "I _want _to tell you. I just can't risk it."

"Fine. Whatever, _Stefan_."

"Now, now. There's no need for insults."

Elena pushed back a laugh, trying to keep her face serious. But it wasn't easy. Especially not since the amusement was sparkling in his deep, blue eyes.

"Speaking off," he said, frowning. "Where is my annoying sibling this evening?"

She shrugged. "Probably still asleep in my room."

Damon's body tensed for a second. "Asleep in your room?"

"I snuck out."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes everywhere but on her. "Well, that's great. The two lovebirds spend the night together. I mean, sure you've only just left the hospital, but hey, why waste any time."

Elena watched him confused. Why was he suddenly so hostile?

"Damon−"

"You know what, it's getting late," he hissed. "I should go."

"Fine. Go," she said, annoyed by his attitude as she laid down on the street. "It's not like I invited you."

"Elena," Damon snapped, the impatience thick in his voice. "What are you doing now?"

"Looking at the stars."

"In the middle of the road?"

"Come on, hardly anyone uses this road."

"That's no reason to lie down on it!" he snapped. "Now, get up. I'm walking you home."

She snorted. "I don't think so."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"Then stay."

_Why did I just say that?_

_Because you don't want him to go._

_Because he's the first one to treat you like a normal human being since you woke up._

"Or go without me," she added, blinking wildly. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

_Once more with even less feeling._

A little smile played on his lips as he laid down next to her. "You're still stubborn, Gilbert."

"Yeah. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately? Are you kidding? You know what you want and what you don't want and you're not afraid to voice it. That's not wrong. That's amazing. And if my idiot brother can't see that, then, well, he's an idiot."

Baffled, Elena stared at the vampire next to her. This wasn't the Damon she'd known before. This was someone completely different. Someone sweet. Someone caring. Someone who wouldn't leave her alone in the dark. When did this happen? And when had his eyes become so hypnotizing?

"I didn't hate you anymore, did I?" It wasn't a question. She just knew. "This," she said, shaking her finger from him to her. "This was normal, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he rumbled, making something inside her tighten.

"I like you."

"Yes."

"And you like me."

"Yes."

"We were−" she paused, her mind racing. "−friends?"

His eyes dropped to her lips for a split second. But before she could think about why she felt the way she felt when he did that, he looked away and said, "Yes."

"How did that happen?"

"Exactly like this," he said, his fingers tapping the steal abs Elena just knew were hidden underneath the white T-shirt he was wearing. "We talked."

"I didn't know you _talked_ to women."

"I didn't." He turned his face towards her and whispered. "Not before you."

Maybe it was just the cool night air or the light from the stars above them, but whatever it was, suddenly, Elena's entire body was throbbing. Parts she didn't even know existed were set on fire. And it didn't help that his warm breath was hitting her face, drowning her in his masculine scent, making her thoughts cloudy, making her bones melt.

"Damon?"

"Yes?"

A loud ring resonated through the night, stopping her from what she was about to say. And she was grateful for it. She had no idea what she'd been on the verge of saying, but whatever it was, it couldn't have been good.

"Stefan," she said, checking caller-ID.

Damon turned his gaze back to the heavens, his stubbled jaw set.

"Hey."

"Where the hell are you, Elena?"

She sighed. "I'm fine. Please, don't be mad."

"You waited for me to fall asleep and then left!"

"I told you I wanted to go out!"

"And I told you, you couldn't!"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Yes, I can!"

"I'm hanging up now!" she yelled, snapping her phone shut. "That stupid, possessive ass!"

"Trouble in paradise?" Damon asked, still watching the stars.

She frowned, shoving her phone back in her bag. "I don't want to talk about it."

"OK."

She cocked an eyebrow. "OK?"

"Yeah."

She let out a little laugh.

"What?" Damon asked, finally looking at her.

"Nothing, just, you and Stefan really are nothing alike, are you?"

"Thank you."

"You just assume that's a compliment?"

"Well, you did call him an ass, so−"

"Good point," she snickered. "He just gets on my nerves."

"Why?" he asked, watching her closely.

"He treats me like I'm−"

"−a kid?"

"Yes!" she cheered. "Exactly!"

Damon rolled his eyes. "He's always been like that. Human or vampire."

"Yeah, well, I hate it and the weird thing is−" she trailed off, wringing her hands.

"What?"

"I didn't used to hate it. I mean, it's like you said, he's always been like this. So why does it bother me so much now?"

"Maybe you're a different person now."

"Since Hertz?"

"Since before Hertz."

"I don't think so. I mean, how much can a person change in two months, right?"

"Right." He smiled, but it wasn't a real smile. It was a sad one, one that didn't reach his eyes.

And she hated it.

"I should go home," she mumbled.

He snorted, jumping back on his feet so fast he was just a blur to her. "Yeah, you should. Stefan's probably still naked in your bed, waiting."

"Naked?" she sniffed. "If he's naked, we're going to have bigger problems than his condescending attitude."

"But you said−"

"I never said I slept with him. I said he slept in my room. There's a difference."

"You didn't have sex with him?"

"No, I didn't."

He smiled a real smile now, his eyes lighter for some reason. "OK, let's get you home."

She nodded, getting up. However, when she did, the world spun for a second, leaving her staggering.

She saw Damon move towards her, but she held up her hand, stopping him. "I'm fine."

"You're tired."

Elena shrugged. "Yeah, well."

"What are you doing out here if you're tired, Elena? You should rest, especially after everything you've been through."

She glared at him, opening her mouth to respond, but he cut her off by saying, "And that's not treating you like a child. That's stating a fact."

Elena rubbed her eyes. "I can't sleep."

"Really? Because you look about ready to collapse right here."

"I just can't, OK."

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixated on her chest. "You're afraid."

"No, I'm not," she snapped.

"Well, either you're afraid or you're about to have a heart attack," he said in a soft voice. "Your heart is beating out of control."

There was a long silence, until Elena said in broken voice, "I don't remember anything about what happened to me. But I remember darkness. Never-ending, pitch black, darkness. And I was alone. And scared. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find my way back. I was trapped."

"And now you're afraid to close your eyes."

Tears running down her cheeks, she whimpered. "What if I don't wake up. What if I get trapped again?"

He was in front of her and cupping her face before she could blink, forcing her eyes on his. "Then I'll get you out again."

"You promise?"

His thumbs slowly ran circles over her cheekbones. "I promise."

She smiled, the tip of her lips touching his hand. "Why do I believe you?"

He smiled back. "Let's just get you home."

She nodded, her eyelids suddenly feeling very heavy.

"OK," was the last thing she said before she let the darkness take her.

And for some reason, in his arms, she wasn't the least bit afraid.

* * *

**It was _so_ hard to write this chapter. I struggled all the way through it! What did you think of the end result? Let me know. And I promise, more 'action'-filled chapters are coming! Delena isn't far away!**

**XXX LustAndLove**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies_-Pietro Aretino-

"Oh my God."

Elena smiled at her mother in the full length mirror, running her hands over her crisp, white dress.

"I know," she sang, admiring the superbly draped bodice that was perfectly balanced by the grand skirt with rosettes and lace.

"And it fits you perfectly," Miranda added, tying up the corset back. "Just like your husband-to-be."

Elena bit her lip. "He _does _fit me perfectly, doesn't he. Who would've thought."

"Me," her mother said, caressing the tiny white crystals on Elena's off-the-shoulder neckline. "I saw you two belonged together from the very first moment you met him."

"Really? I didn't. Which is weird, because now I can't imagine a life without him."

Miranda placed her hands softly on her daughter's shoulders. Elena leaned back, sweetly resting her cheek against her mother's. Nothing had to be said. Not in that moment, not between mother and daughter.

"Are you ready, princess?"

Elena turned to face the brunette man in the doorway. "Well, look at you, doctor Gilbert," she sang. "You clean up nice."

Her father didn't answer. He just stared at her, his brown eyes suddenly glistening with tears.

"Oh, dad, don't," she whimpered. "If you start then I start and if I start, mom has to do my make-up all over again."

He nodded, scraping his throat. "Sorry, it's just…my little girl is getting married."

"I know," Elena sang, shaking her head so hard her thick, wavy curls tickled her shoulders. "I can't believe it either."

They shared a warm look. "OK, let's do this."

Elena smiled, taking his arm. "Let's."

"And you're sure about this, right?" he asked, walking down the hallway.

Elena snickered, watching the huge, white double doors doom up in front of them. "Dad, you can't ask me that question now! I'm about to walk down the aisle!"

"I'm just saying that if you want to call it off, we could just turn around and−"

"I love him."

"OK, then."

The doors opened, soft piano music drifted through the decorated room. Everyone was dressed in their most formal clothes. The aisle was outlined by white lilies, bathing the room in the most amazing smell. And the way to her future husband was carpeted in a deep, bloody red with white rose pedals scattered across it.

And yet, as gorgeous as everything was, Elena trembled all the way down the aisle, a thousand thoughts running through her mind.

Did her father have a point?

Should she turn and run?

She was young.

Some say too young.

In fact, most of the people in the room thought so.

She grasped her bouquet−a bundle of red roses−tighter.

Was she crazy?

Was she making a mistake?

What if he changed?

What if he got mean?

Was she setting herself up for disaster?

Her breath sped up.

Her father noticed, slowing down.

_I can't do this._

On the verge of hyperventilating, Elena looked up, searching for help…and then she saw him.

Stefan, standing on the right side of the aisle, smiling at her, those brilliant white teeth drawing her in.

She smiled back, her entire being calming down. She was being foolish. Off course she wasn't making a mistake.

She got into the bridal rhythm again and just when she was almost at the altar…she saw _him_.

Damon. Looking _good_. He was wearing a classic, black tuxedo with a black tie. His hair wasn't rummaged like usual, but styled for the big event. And his smile was even brighter than Stefan's.

Her father stopped.

And for some reason, Elena hesitated. Why wasn't she going to Stefan? Why was her heart beating like crazy since she'd seen Damon?

The man in between the Salvatores stood with his back turned to her, looking up at the cross above the altar, touching his forehead, his chest and his shoulders.

Slowly, her father walked her the last distance, until she stood right between the brothers.

But why were neither of them moving?

"Take care of her," she heard her dad said.

Who was he talking to?

The man in front of her turned around and Elena's heart literally stopped. Those black eyes pierced hers threateningly as he ran his fingers through his blond, slicked back hair.

"Always," he rumbled, enjoyment thick in his voice.

_Hertz._

"Oh, God."

He grinned in a way that made her stomach turn. "Not exactly."

She looked around, searching for a way out, but she was no longer in the church. She was in a cemetery.

Day had become night.

The red aisle had become an open grave.

The guests were no longer smiling, but just staring out in front of them, completely dressed in black.

And Damon and Stefan had their heads bent down, a single red rose in their hand.

"Please," she whimpered, staring into his pitch black eyes. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

Tears ran down her cheeks, salty drops staining her dress.

"Oh," he sang. "You mean _this_?"

He pushed her and then she was falling.

And falling.

And falling.

Until she hit the ground, hard, the smell off the moist earth around her overwhelming her senses. He was towering over her, looking down on her, holding a shovel.

Damon and Stefan stood beside him. And they were crying. Both of them. Stefan was the first to drop his rose into her grave.

"Help me!" she yelled, frustrated. "You're freaking vampires! Fight him!"

A second rose fell by her feet.

"Damon," she cried in a broken voice, staring up at the vampire who looked in such deep despair her heart ached. "Please, help."

He didn't hear her. The only one who acknowledged her presence was Hertz, digging his shovel into the pile of sand beside him.

"No," she cried. "Please! Whatever it is you want, I can−"

A cluster of dirt hit her, cutting off her plea. He wasn't open to bargaining. He had only one goal and he wasn't going to let her distract him from it.

He wasn't going to let her distract him from killing her.

Terror overwhelmed her senses. Frantically, she tried to claw her way out of her grave, but she couldn't get out. She was trapped.

So she screamed.

And screamed.

Until there was so much dirt it filled her mouth and nose.

Until she couldn't breathe.

And the more she struggled, the deeper she sank.

The sand stung her eyes.

She closed them.

And finally, the darkness won.

* * *

Damon stood in front of the fireplace, a scotch in his hand. He'd already emptied a bottle, but it wasn't helping, it wasn't making him forget.

Forget she was in his room.

Right upstairs.

Within his reach.

He took another gulp, staring into the fire, listening to her slow breathing. It didn't calm him down one bit. On the contrary. All it did was make him want to go up even more and hold her in his arms until she remembered, until she knew he was the one she wanted to be with.

_I'm yours._

He closed his eyes, her words engraved in his head, in his heart. Elena wanted him, whether she remembered it or not. She wanted him. And she would want him again. Soon. He just needed to be patient. Unfortunately, patience had never been Damon's strongest point.

Her breathing sped up and she started making little noises. Damon smiled. She was dreaming.

_No, wait._

His smile vanished.

Something was wrong.

And then the screams started.

It took Damon literally one second to reach his room. His muscles were tense, his fangs were out, he was ready to fight whoever was daring to hurt her…but there was no one there.

No one beside the girl in his bed whose nails were digging into his matrass and who was screaming her lunges out.

He hurried to her side, sitting down beside her.

"Elena?" he whispered. "Elena, wake up."

Her head started trashing back and forth. She was going to hurt herself if she kept going like this.

"Elena?" he rumbled louder, grabbing her shoulders. "Wake up!"

"Please!" Elena screamed.

_Enough,_ Damon thought, hauling her up, shaking her and screaming, "**WAKE UP!**"

Her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, flung open then. They were teary. Red. Scared. And staring right into his. Until she suddenly flung her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him in a way that made his sitting position very uncomfortable.

He didn't know how long they sat like that, hugging, but it could've lasted forever as far as Damon was concerned. She felt so right in his arms. Close against him. Her soft breast pressed against his chest. Her head in the nape of his neck. Her fingers on his back. And her smell…_God_, that smell.

"He was there," she cried against his neck. "He was coming for me."

"Who?" Damon whispered, absentmindedly stroking her hair.

"Hertz," she chocked out. "I saw him. He was blond. With eyes as black as night. Merciless. Ruthless."

Damon frowned in her hair. "You remember him?"

She let out a strangling sound, tightening her grip on him. "I don't remember anything, so why do I have to remember _him_? I don't want to remember _him_!"

"Ssssshhhh," Damon soothed, rubbing his hand softly over her back. "It was just a dream. You're safe."

He felt her shaking her head. "What if he comes back? What if he wants to finish what he started? What if next time, he−"

Damon grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away just enough so he could look her in the eye. "Listen to me, Elena," he rumbled, watching a tear roll down her cheek. "I swear to you, Hertz won't be back."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," he said, his hands slowly trailing up to caress her neck. "He knows what will happen if he comes after you again. Bonnie and I made it very clear that if he touches you, we'll destroy him and his precious wife."

Still reeling from the nightmare, Elena closed her eyes, unable to hide how amazing his hands felt on her skin. It was like his touch broke through every wall she'd built, every façade she'd upheld. He made her turn into the girl she wished she still was, the girl she wished she could be again.

"Elena," he breathed, making her open her eyes.

His gaze was warm−hot even−as he looked at her in a way she'd never had anyone look at her.

Not Stefan.

Not Matt.

No one.

His touch moved to her cheeks, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones.

Why did that feel so familiar? So right?

"Damon," she breathed, his blue eyes soft on hers. "Are you compelling me?"

He smiled a little, one of his hands dropping to her chest, a move that made certain parts of her tingle.

"This thing−" he said, fingering the silver necklace Stefan had apparently given her for her birthday. "−is filled with Vervain. I couldn't compel you even if I wanted to."

Softly, she rested her hands on his chest and whispered, "So why do I feel−"

She stopped herself, her eyebrows rising.

"Why do you feel what?" Damon asked, hopeful.

Suddenly, Elena broke eye contact, rubbing her forehead, mumbling, "Wait, you and Bonnie?"

"What?"

"You said you and Bonnie got the antidote?"

He nodded, "Yeah, we did."

She blinked wildly, pushing herself away from him. "_You _got the antidote?"

"Yes."

"No."

Damon frowned. "Yes, me. And Bonnie."

"You're lying. Stefan got the antidote. He and Bonnie found Hertz."

"What?" Damon snarled.

"He told me−"

"That _he_ and Bonnie saved you?"

When he saw her nod, Damon's blood started to boil. Gnarling, he pushed himself off the bed, pulling on every ounce of self-control not to go out and kill his brother. This hadn't been the deal! Stefan wasn't supposed to fill her head with lies! Sure, keeping up appearances about them still being together was understandable−it's all Elena knew−but the bastard was rewriting history just so he'd look good!

Elena scrambled up from the bed, watching Damon pace, his eyes hard on the floor, his hands balled up by his side.

It was only then that Elena finally took in the room she'd been sleeping in. A room that looked familiar. Frowning, she reached in her bag that Damon had put by his bed and pulled out the sketchbook she'd packed before storming out her own room. Quickly, she flipped through the pages until she found the drawings she was looking for, the drawings she hadn't been able to place. Until now.

Her mind racing she stared at the pages in her hand that showed exact copies of the paintings that decorated his room. _Chez Tortoni_ by Manet and Rembrandt's _Lady and Gentleman in Black. _

Why had she drawn pictures of Manet and Rembrandt?

Or rephrasing that, why had she drawn pictures_ of Damon's room_?"

"I've been here before."

Damon stopped in his tracks, facing her, his entire body suddenly softer, calmer.

"Tell me I'm wrong," she said, turning the book so he could see the drawings.

"Elena−"

"I'll know if you're lying," she persisted. "So, again, I've been here before, haven't I?"

There was a long pause, until he nodded, slowly.

"Why?"

"Elena−"

"Don't!" she screamed, tears filling her eyes again. "Don't say you can't tell me! Damn it, Damon! I need someone to tell me the truth!"

He moved towards her, then, only stopping inches away from her. That's when she noticed he'd changed clothes. That's when she noticed the white shirt he was wearing…

"Oh my God," she whimpered.

"Elena," he said. "It's not good for you−"

"And this is?" she cried, feeling drops roll down her face. "I'm going crazy, Damon! I don't understand anything that's going on! I don't understand why you would track down Hertz for me! I don't understand why I would draw things from your room! I don't understand why I've apparently been sleeping in your shirt−"

He grabbed her arms then, his fingers digging into her skin. He looked furious. Dangerous. And she knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Don't think you can scare me into dropping this!" she hissed, raising her chin stubbornly. "Don't think−"

His lips descended on hers before she could finish, ravishing her mouth with a bruising intensity.

Shocked, Elena pushed against his chest, breaking their kiss.

Breathing heavily, they stared at each other, their faces still only inches apart. Elena wanted to say something, anything, but what? Her mind was on overdrive. She didn't know where to begin and when she saw his eyes narrow and drop to her lips, she knew she wouldn't even get the chance to. Before she could stop him, his hand was on the back of her neck, pushing her back to his lips, back to his mouth, back to his heath. And keeping her there.

Whimpering, she pounded his chest, her fists hitting him frantically. But she couldn't break free. He was too strong, too overpowering. Not that that kept her from trying. Her pride couldn't just let her give in.

So she pounded.

And pounded.

Irritated, Damon growled against her lips and then, without warning his tongue pushed its way inside of her. The second his taste hit her, it was like someone had flipped a switch, making every ounce of fight leave her body. All of her resistance simply drained out of her until her pounding fists turned into groping hands, hands that grasped his shirt and pulled him closer to her.

Moaning in her mouth, Damon's hands moved to the nape of her back, closing the little distance that was still left between them. His chest felt hard, strong against her fragile little body. His arms were wrapped around her in a dominant way and yet it didn't feel like he was dominating her. It felt like he was protecting her, keeping her safe from harm.

There was one downside to their proximity, though. She could feel just how much Damon was into their kiss, how much he was into her or, to be more specific, how much he wanted to be _into_ her. His throbbing erection against her evenly throbbing sex felt so right that she realized with a start just how wrong it actually was.

She pushed him again, this time meaning it and he backed off…reluctantly.

His eyes were pitch black and veiny, his fangs out and glistening. Elena knew this was what a vampire looked like when he lost control, when he no longer had the strength to keep up appearances. She'd seen it once with Stefan, but he'd been so ashamed she hadn't seen it a second time. Damon, however, didn't seem ashamed at all and she suspected he really wasn't. After all, Damon was the Salvatore who'd come to terms with his vampire nature, who actually relished in it. Which was one more reason why Damon was the Salvatore she should be staying away from.

"What the hell was that?" Elena hissed, glaring at him.

"That, sweetness, was a kiss."

"I know it was!" She yelled. "But I don't kiss you!"

One corner of Damon's lips pulled up before he roared, "I beg to differ."

"You know what I mean! You and me−" she shook her head. "Ridiculous!"

She started towards the door, but the moment she passed him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, his eyes blue and amazing again.

"Me and you," he growled, running his fingers slowly through her hair. "We're anything but ridiculous. Let me show you."

His head dipped down, but Elena wouldn't let him kiss her…again. She couldn't. It had already required all off her willpower to break free from him the first time. If he kissed her a second time, if he touched her like _that_…

"I'm going," she hissed, pulling out of his grasp.

"Elena, you belong here!" he yelled after her, following her down the stairs.

"No, I don't!"

He was in front of her, cutting of her path to the front door, before she could take her next breath.

"Yes, you do," he said, his voice calm and yet filled with emotion. "You know you do. You can feel it−" he glided towards her, putting his hand on her chest, over her aching heart. "−right here."

Elena slapped his touch away. "I don't feel _anything_."

"Then why are you crying?"

She hadn't even noticed the tears until he brought them up. Confused, she swallowed hard, trying to push back those treacherous drops. "I−"

"You're crying," he said, answering for her. "Because you know I'm right. Because you know you're supposed to be here. Because leaving seems like the most unnatural thing you've ever done. Isn't that right?"

_God, yes._

"No."

"Why do you think Stefan irritates you so much, Elena?" Damon growled, following her as she continued her path to the door. "It's because you know you shouldn't be with him!"

"It's because he's overprotective, which is normal since he loves me!"

"He's overprotective because he's afraid, Elena!" Damon gnarled. "He's afraid you'll remember!"

Elena snorted, her hand on the doorknob. "That's craz−"

"He's afraid you'll remember _me_!"

Her hand stilled. So did her heart and she suspected the world ceased to turn as well in that moment. It felt like it anyway.

"You?" she breathed, turning to face him. "Why would he be afraid that I'd remember _you_?"

"We weren't friends, Elena."

"No," she snapped. "That much I believe. A friend wouldn't do this to me."

"You said you wanted to know!"

"The truth!"

"This is the truth, Elena! Stefan was filling your head with lies and, fuck it, I'll be the one filling it with truths! _This_−" he moved at vampire speed, stopping right in front of her. "_Us_! We're the truth!"

"_Us_? There is no _us_!"

"There was!"

She shook her head desperately, trying to ignore how something deep down told her he was right. "Shut up!"

"We were together, Elena!"

"Shut up!"

"And we did more than just kissing!"

"Stop lying!"

"You wanted to be with me!"

"No!"

"You know I'm right! You know this is why you can't stand Stefan around you, touching you, kissing you! You know he's not the man you crave! The man your entire body screams out−"

Her palm slammed down on his cheek before he could finish and even though it didn't physically hurt him, she couldn't have done anything more devastating. Because it had been her last resort. Her last effort to shut him up, to stop him from revealing a truth she wasn't ready for, a truth she didn't want to hear, a truth she couldn't accept. He could see it in her red, big eyes. He could see that the thought of her being with him instead of Stefan actually broke her heart. Her spirit. Everything she was. Just the mere thought of ever having cared for him did that much damage…

His stomach clutching into a tight knot, he stared into her weeping eyes, silently begging her to see, to remember.

But all Elena Gilbert did, was turn and leave him behind, in more ways than one.

* * *

**I know it's a shorter chapter, but the next one will be longer! This is sort of an introduction to the next twist! As always, let me know what you think! I LOVE your comments! X LustAndLove**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes, to let it go -_Mary Oliver_-_

"Open this fucking door!"

Fuming, Damon hit the wood in front of him so hard it dented under his force. But he didn't care. He needed to see her. Now.

"Open up or I'll burn this fucking house to the ground! You know I'll do it!"

No responds. But Damon knew she was there. On the other side of the door.

"I can hear you breathing!" he snarled. "Open up!"

There was a soft click and slowly, the door opened, revealing a very pissed off Bonnie. "What do you want, Damon?"

"A spell," he hissed, pushing against the invisible wall that kept him out of her home. "I need a spell."

Bonnie frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point! I need a fucking spell!"

"Why?"

"It's Elena."

At once, panic took over Bonnie's face. "Is she OK?"

"No!" he growled. "She doesn't remember anything!"

Bonnie exhaled, making an annoyed sound. "Damon, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought it was something serious!"

"Amnesia isn't serious enough for you?" he hissed.

"Yes, it is, but I already know she has amnesia! Everyone knows! It's not exactly a reason for you to be knocking on my door at," she checked her watch, sighing. "Four in the morning."

"She needs a spell to get her memory back and she needs it now!"

"Bonnie," a voice yelled from inside. "What's going on?"

The witch rubbed her forehead, turning her head to scream, "Nothing, Gran! Go back to bed!"

She waved her hand at Damon, urging him to back off. He did, giving her room to step out on her porch and close the door behind her.

"OK, explain to me why it's so freaking urgent that Elena gets her memory back right this very moment!"

Damon ran a hand through his rummaged, raven hair, his icy blue eyes intently piercing Bonnie's. "She's with Stefan."

"OK, seriously," Bonnie hissed. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me Elena's got amnesia and Stefan's her boyfriend? How drunk are you!"

"Was."

"What?"

"Stefan _was_ her boyfriend."

Bonnie cocked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"She broke up with him."

"No, she didn't."

"Yeah, she did. Before she collapsed at the hospital Elena told Stefan she wanted to break up."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Come on, Damon. Why would she do that?"

"Because she wanted to be with someone else."

"Who?"

Damon gave her a pointed look and it didn't take her long to understand what he was not saying.

"Oh, come on!" Bonnie snickered.

"I'm not lying!"

"So, you're telling me that Elena dumped Stefan _for you_?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, OK, go home and sleep it off, Damon."

"It's the truth! Ask Jeremy! He was there!"

"And this is the same Jeremy you compelled into forgetting everything that happened to his sister?"

"Shit!"

"I'm going back to bed now."

"We were together on her birthday."

"I know. I saw you dance."

"No, you don't understand," Damon said, watching her turn to go back inside. "We were _together _on her birthday."

She froze for a few seconds, until she turned again, glaring. "Enough."

"Listen to me−"

"No!" she snapped. "You listen to _me_! Elena is my friend! Now, I know there was something going on between the two of you that I will never understand, but the last thing she ever told me about it was that you were just friends!"

"She didn't want to−"

"And the only reason−" she cut him off. "−that your head is not exploding right now is because I know you care about her. I was there with Hertz. But let's get one thing straight, this is your last chance to leave!"

"Bonnie−"

"I will not just stand here and listen to you trying to use Elena's amnesia for your own personal gain!"

"Me?" he snarled. "Not me! My fucking brother!"

"Elena loves Stefan!"

"**LOVED!**" he screamed. "**SHE LOVED HIM!**"

"Stop it, Damon! Just stop!"

"Look," he snarled. "You don't have to believe me! All you have to do is cast a spell and let her tell you herself once she remembers!"

"I'm not casting any spell!"

"Damn it, Bonnie! Just fucking do it!"

"No! Memory spells are dangerous, Damon! It's like brain surgery! One wrong move and I might damage something she still needs! The only way I would even consider it was if her life was in danger, but that's not the case! She's fine!"

"Fine? You send her back into the arms of a man she didn't want to be with anymore! You handed her to him on a silver platter! And now he's touching her, kissing her! We have to stop him before he takes it any further!"

"If Stefan truly wasn't with Elena anymore, if she'd told him she wanted to break up, he won't do anything immoral, Damon! That's not him! That's you!"

Damon snorted, doing his very best to keep his cool. The witch wasn't of any use to him without a head.

"When she remembers what I meant to her," Damon snarled. "She'll realize what Stefan did, she'll realize you didn't do anything to stop him and she'll hate both of you for it!"

"If."

"What?"

"_If_ she remembers."

"You bitch!"

"Look, Damon, I'm not hoping she never gets her memory back, but have you ever considered maybe that would be a good thing?"

"**NO!**"

"Just think about it."

"Again, no! She wanted to be with me!"

"Even if that's true, that only happened after you slithered into her life! Before that, she was a girl who was madly in love with Stefan! And right now, she's still that girl! In her mind, you and her didn't get along!"

"She'll get her memory back."

"You don't know that."

"Then I'll make her remember!"

"You do that," Bonnie snarled impatient. "Ruin her life all over again."

"Ruin her life? I didn't ruin her life! She was happy!"

"Happy? Since she met you she's been kidnapped, almost raped and murdered−"

"I saved her! I−"

"−she left her birthday party crying−"

"She cried?"

"−she locked herself in her house for over a month−"

"She did?"

"−she was in another car accident−"

"I had nothing to do with−"

"−and when she pulled through all of that, she was poisoned and almost buried alive!"

"Something, again, _I_ saved her from!"

"Yes!" Bonnie yelled. "You saved her…_from your friends_!"

"They're not my friends−"

"−anymore."

"You know, you act like I'm the only vampire in this equation! Stefan's one, too, you know! And at one point, he was a far crueler one than I am!"

"Yes," Bonnie admitted. "He _was_. But you, Damon, you are still evil. Your friends are still evil. She shouldn't be around that. It's too dangerous. You'll get her killed."

Damon closed his eyes, wanting to shut the witch out, to cast her words aside and forget. But he couldn't. Because deep down, he knew she had a point. His world _was_ dangerous. _He_ was dangerous.

"There's a surprise party to celebrate her recovery tomorrow," Bonnie announced, snapping him out of it. "Or technically, tonight."

"She doesn't like surprises."

Bonnie frowned. "I know. You should come and see her. See how happy she is with her friends, with Stefan."

"Without me."

"Just come, see and then decide."

"Decide what?" he hissed.

"Decide if she's truly better off with you."

"And if I decide that's the case?"

"Then I won't stand in your way."

"Good."

"But if you come tonight and see she's not a girl who belongs hiding in the shadows with you, you leave."

"Leave?"

"Town. You leave town."

"And what if she remembers and I already left?"

"Then she won't find you. She'll be sad. For a while. But she'll move on. Be it with Stefan or somebody else."

"Fine." Damon grinded his teeth, hissing, "But you're delusional if you think I'm just going to hand her over to my brother."

Bonnie sighed, going back inside her house. However, before she closed the door behind her, she said, "You know, it's strange how not so long ago, you were willing to lay down your life for Elena and yet, now, you're not willing to even contemplate walking away for her."

The door closed before Damon could reply, leaving him standing alone in a night that had suddenly turned darker.

* * *

"And _I _said, give me another one."

Elena glared at the middle-aged bartender who was glaring right back at her, his arms crossed over his chest, a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"I've given you enough liquor for one night. Especially since you haven't shown me any ID."

Elena snorted. "Oh, please! Like the police is going to barge into _this_ dump any time soon!"

"OK, that's it," he snapped, rubbing his white, scruffy beard. "You're cut off!"

"No, _you're_ cut off!"

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

"It did in my head!"

"Be that as it may, I'm calling you _and _your head a cab!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"FINE! But just so you know, I'm going to tell my vampire boyfriend that you were mean to me and he's going to come back here and kick your ass!"

"Did you just say _vampire_ boyfriend? What else have you taken tonight, besides the content of two Jack Daniel's bottles?"

"Nothing! But the night is still young and since I'm apparently in the habit of taking things I shouldn't lately, it's probably only a matter of time."

"A piece of advice, you should stop drinking. It destroys brain cells and I think you should desperately try to hold on to every brain cell you still have left."

"You're a little late to the party, my bartending friend!" she sang, playing with the empty glass on the damaged, wooden counter. "My brain's already scrambled. Very, very scrambled. In fact, it's so scrambled I can't remember anything that happened to me over the last few months."

"Oh," he said, his eyes suddenly softer. "I'm sorry."

She sniffed. "Don't be. At this point, I think it's a blessing in disguise."

"How so?"

Elena intently held up her glass, smiling a little. The bartender sighed before grabbing a fresh bottle and saying, "One more! That's it!"

"Thanks−" she frowned. "What's your name?"

"Joe."

She gave him a piercing look. "Is that your real name?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes, taking a big gulp from her drink. "Well, _Joe_, I'm Scarlett."

"That's not your real name either, is it?"

She took another gulp. "And you see, Joe, the reason this amnesia thing isn't so bad after all is that I think maybe the last two months are better of erased from my mind."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that I have a suspicion there were certain things done _to _and _by_ me that are better off buried. Deep, deep, _deep_ down. Way down. Like, so deep down even Freud would need a map and a flashlight to find it."

"That's deep."

She nodded, her face serious when she said, "Yes it is, Joe. Yes, it is."

"It's Max, by the way. My real name."

"Mine is still Scarlett," she mumbled, finishing her drink.

"OK, _Scarlett_, time for that cab."

"But it's early."

"It's after eight."

"See, that's early."

"At night!"

"What? No it isn't, because that would mean I've been here over twelve hours! Are you mad, Max?" she smiled. "Get it? Mad Max. The movie. Mel Gibson."

He just stood there, raising one eyebrow at her.

"Really? Nothing, Max?"

The man walked away, heading for the payphone that hung on the wall.

"Rude!" she yelled after him, adding silently, "Very rude. And there's no way it's already eight."

Sniffing, she reached in her bag and pulled out her cell phone.

"Holy crap," she said, watching the screen that read

20:18 pm

29 missed calls.

The calls all came from two cell phones.

Stefan's and Bonnie's. The only two people−besides the Salvatore she couldn't think about−who knew the truth. Who knew Hertz was still out there.

Quickly, she dialed Stefan's number. She didn't have to wait long before his warm, worried voice resonated through the phone.

"Elena? Where are you? Are you OK?"

"Yes," she said, trying her best to sound sober. "I'm fine."

"Where are you?!"

"Out of town."

"Be more specific!"

"To be honest, I don't really now. I started walking and ended up here."

There was a long pause until he snarled, "Are you out of your mind? You can't just leave like this! It's dangerous!"

"Because of vampires?"

"Yes! And because you're a teenage girl who's roaming the streets at night, unprotected!"

"And because of Hertz?"

"Yes!"

"Stefan?"

"Yes?"

"What did he look like?"

"What?"

"Hertz," she said, realizing she never would've asked him this question without liquid courage. "What did he look like?"

"Why?"

"I just want to know."

"What he looks like?"

"If you ever saw him."

A pause again. "Where is this coming from?"

Elena swallowed hard. "Damon."

"Damon?"

"He said−" she trailed off, closing her eyes.

"He said _what_?"

"He said that he was the one who found Hertz. That he got the antidote."

"And you believe him?"

"I believe someone's lying to me."

"And you think it's me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. But I know I don't like feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm being played."

"By me?"

"Or Damon. Probably, Damon," she shook her head. "Definitely, Damon. I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little−" _Drunk._ "−confused."

"I'll come and pick you up."

"No, that's OK," she said, looking through the little, dirty window by the door. "My cab's already here. Meet me at my house?"

"Actually, could you come to The Grill?"

"The Grill?"

"If you're up for it."

_The Grill has alcohol._

"OK. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Good. I love you."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "I love you, too."

She hung up, winked at the bartender who gave her a smile back and then headed for the door, unaware that before the sun would rise again, everything would be different.

* * *

"She should be here any minute."

"Maybe we should've cancelled this whole thing."

"Yeah," Stefan said, running a hand through his hair, overlooking the decorated Grill and the evenly decorated crowd. "I know, Bonnie. But it's too late now. All of her friends are here."

"Where was she anyway?"

"No idea. Out of Mystic Falls."

"Why?"

"She was upset."

"About what?"

The door to the Grill opened at when he saw him, Stefan snarled, "About him!"

As always when Damon Salvatore entered a room, he caught everyone's attention. Especially the women's. And Bonnie understood why. Even though she hated the vampire's personality, she couldn't deny that the vamp had a certain allure. Even if he was just dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a grey V-neck and his signature leather jacket.

"You!" Stefan snarled when Damon passed them to get to the bar.

Damon just sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here, Damon?"

"I was invited."

"By who?"

His blue eyes found Bonnie, who was wringing her hands.

"Bonnie!" Stefan huffed, surprised.

"He would've found out anyway," the witch explained. "At least like this, things might stay civil."

"Civil?" Stefan hissed. "I don't think so! Not after what he did!"

"What _I_ did?" Damon snarled back.

"You told Elena something, didn't you! When we'd agreed to let her find out on her own!"

"Yes," he hissed. "But I didn't realize that when I agreed to that, you'd be telling her lies!"

"Lies?" Bonnie jumped in.

"Oh, you didn't tell her, huh," Damon sang. "Yes, Bonnie, lies. Did you know that according to him, you and Stefan found Hertz and saved the day?"

Bonnie turned to Stefan. "Is that true?"

Stefan scraped his throat. "Look, what was I supposed to say? That Damon found the antidote? That would've raised a whole range of questions−"

"−you didn't want answered."

"−she's not ready for!"

"She can handle the truth!"

"**SURPRISE!**"

The vampires and witch focused on the door everyone was looking at, a door where a brunette girl stood, frozen, her brown eyes big and shocked.

Everyone waited for a reaction, for her to say something.

But she didn't say anything.

Instead, after a long pause, Elena doubled over and busted out in hysterical laughter.

"Do you smell that?" Stefan snarled, glaring at Damon.

Damon nodded, watching Elena with worried eyes.

"Smell what?" Bonnie asked.

"Scotch," Damon whispered.

"She's drunk?"

"Hammered," Stefan hissed, glaring at his brother. "Yeah, you're right, Damon. Clearly, she can handle the truth. She just needs a bottle of booze to do it."

"More than one," Damon said, taking a step towards her.

Before he could take a second step, though, Stefan grabbed his arm. "I'll take it from here!"

"Get your hand of me," Damon rumbled, his eyes turning darker.

"Then stay here."

"If I want to go to Elena, there's really nothing you can do to stop me."

"Try me."

"I haven't spent the whole night compelling people, Stefan. It won't be like before. I'll rip your head off."

"Again, try me."

Damon pulled free from his brother's grip, snarling, ready to attack, ready to−

"Um, guys," Bonnie said, her voice a little panicked. "Someone gave her a mike."

"Oh my God," Elena's voice snickered through the sound system. "More surprises! What a genius idea!"

"OK, time to intervene," Bonnie snapped, pushing past the vampires.

"Oh," Elena continued. "And there's my best friend! Bonnie, ladies and gentleman!"

There were a few people who clapped, but it were awkward claps. Everyone could tell Elena was as drunk as a skunk.

"OK, sweetie,' Bonnie said, trying to take the mike from her. "Let's get you some coffee."

Elena pulled away, smiling. "No, no, I want to be here! At my surprise! Although, I have to say, as far as surprises go, this one doesn't even make the top ten!"

"We need to do something," Stefan whispered.

"Like what?" Damon gnarled. "Drag her out of the room?"

"I'll tell you what was a surprise," Elena said, a hitch in her voice the human ear would never pick up. But Damon heard. He heard the tears in her words. The sadness.

"What was a surprise was when I changed earlier and found scars on my inner thigh that weren't there before! And they looked like scratch marks! Isn't that fun! Or the little scars on my arms from when I was apparently in other car crash! And I particularly liked it when Caroline−" Elena looked around the room. "Where is Caroline?"

The blond girl raised her hand, her eyes worried.

"There she is! I particularly liked it when Caroline's mom, the sheriff, called me this afternoon to let me know I should come in to talk about my case! See, apparently, I have a case! Quick show of hands, who knew I was recently kidnapped and almost raped and murdered?"

No one raised their hands.

No one said a word.

No one except Elena.

"And believe it or not!" she added. "That's just the tip of the iceberg! I can't even tell you guys about the biggest surprise of all!" her eyes found Damon's when she said, "It's just too...much."

"Elena−" Bonnie said softly.

"I know," Elena said, her voice now clearly shaking. "Coffee."

Shooting the Salvatores one last look, Elena shoved the microphone in Bonnie's hands and walked away, disappearing in the kitchen of the Grill.

_That wasn't Elena,_ Damon thought, staring at the spot she'd stood. _Not _my _Elena. My Elena is sweet. Happy. And she would never embarrass her friends like this. _

"You didn't just tell her you found the antidote, did you?" Stefan said, snapping him out of his stupefied gaze.

"No," he answered honestly. "I didn't."

"You selfish asshole."

"Me?" Damon hissed. "You were the one kissing her, touching her, even though you know fucking well she doesn't want to be with you anymore!"

"Because it's all she knows, Damon!" Stefan bellowed. "What was I supposed to do? Push her away? Tell her to fuck off, to go to my brother who she hates? It would've messed her up!"

"And she's in such great shape now!"

"Hey!" Stefan snarled. "This is on you and you know it! You pushed too hard, too fast, Damon! We'll be lucky if she isn't broken beyond repair!"

He knew Stefan was right. He hated it, but he knew. He _was_ a selfish asshole. He hadn't thought about what Elena needed. He hadn't thought of anything, but himself. His want, his need to hold her again, to have her look at him like before. Like he was still a man. Like there was still hope for him. It had been all about him. He'd never even considered that maybe, just maybe, she'd be better off with Stefan.

Bonnie had been right.

Elena deserved better.

"Is anyone going after her?" Bonnie asked, reaching the Salvatores.

"Yeah," Stefan said, shoving his brother on his way to her. "I'll try to fix this."

Damon didn't move. He just stared at the ground, deep in thought, trying to prepare himself for the most impossible, most painful thing he would ever have to do.

* * *

"Sweetheart?"

Elena looked up from where she was sitting on a metallic counter, her eyes teary, her fingers clutched around a silver spoon that was dug into a big canister of pistachio ice cream. "I'm such an idiot."

Stefan smiled, closing the distance between them. "You're not an idiot."

"I just made a total fool of myself."

"Well," he said, tucking a hair behind her ear. "Yes."

She gave him a little smile. "It's not funny."

"I agree. But it's not the end of the world, either."

"Then why does it feel like it is?" she choked out, tears running down. "Why does it feel like everything around me is crumbling down."

"I don't know. Why?"

She shrugged. "I have no clue."

"Sure you do." Gently, Stefan took the ice cream from her, putting it beside her on the counter and taking her hands in his. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

Elena closed her eyes, shaking her head. "It's like I fell asleep and then woke up in a parallel universe. A universe where bad things were done to me. A universe where my best friend is acting strange, distant. But the truth is, I could deal with that. I could deal with rapist and vampire and Bonnie's passive aggressive behavior. What I can't deal with is−"she trailed of, softly sobbing.

"What, sweetheart? What is it you can't deal with?"

"Me," she whimpered. "I can't deal with who I apparently am now."

"Who do you think you are?"

"A bad person."

"No, Elena," Stefan said, cupping her face. "You're not a bad person."

"Yes, I am," she sobbed.

Stefan shook his head, his eyes soft on hers. "Why would you even say such a thing?"

"Because I made her believe it's true."

Stefan turned around, shooting his brother a look that warned him to get out or get killed. Elena jumped up from the counter, wiping her face, her cheeks red.

"Look, Elena, there's something I should probably tell you."

"You should probably leave!" Stefan bellowed.

Damon shot him a quick look, saying, "Just give me one second. She needs to hear this."

"If you don't get out right now−"

"I lied."

Stefan froze.

So did Elena.

Both of them staring at Damon like he'd just claimed the earth was flat.

Elena was the first to speak. "What?"

"I lied," Damon repeated, stepping closer to her. "You never cheated on Stefan. Not with me anyway."

"But the sketches of the paintings−"

"You were asleep for a long time. You had some empty pages. I figured it would help my case."

"Your shirt?"

"Planted it when I was compelling your aunt."

"Why would you do that?" Elena asked, blinking wildly. "Why would you lie?"

Damon grinned. "Sweetness, I'm Damon Salvatore. It's what I do."

"So you went through all that trouble just to−"

"−fuck you. Yes," he said, flashing his white teeth. "I couldn't get you into my bed before, so when you got amnesia, I figured this was my shot. It's really as simple as that."

"You son of a bitch!" she snarled, her hand flying out to slap him. He caught it, his grip firm on her wrist.

"Now, now," he sang, his blue eyes sparkling. "No need to get rough."

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" she hissed, that Gilbert spirit kicked back into life, making her feel like herself again for the first time since she woke up.

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Do you have any idea how much I don't care?"

She grinded her teeth, her nostrils flaring with fury.

"Anyway, since it's clear you won't jump into the sack with me anytime soon, I figure it's better for me to move on. There are a lot more girls out there to be−" he smiled, tightening his grip on her wrist. "−tasted."

She gasped at the same time Damon turned her around so her back rested against his chest. Elena wondered why Stefan wasn't doing anything, why he just stood there, watching them interact.

"Goodbye, Elena Gilbert," Damon rumbled in her ear, his lips grazing her skin. "It was a pleasure."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her breathless.

* * *

"See, that wasn't so bad after all."

Elena smiled at Stefan, wrapping her arms around his neck. "No, you're right. Once I sobered up and everyone got over my little scene, it was nice."

"I told you."

"I should always listen to you, shouldn't I?"

"Are you just figuring that out?"

She laughed, kissing the man she loved, the man she'd always loved.

Someone coughed in the doorway to her room. "Um, I'm still here."

Elena smiled at Bonnie. "I know. But how much longer? I would really like to make love to my boyfriend, now."

Bonnie's cheeks reddened. "I'm on my way out. Your brother just gave me this. Apparently it was delivered this morning." She held out a white box with blue and red letters reading FedEx. "Jeremy said the delivery guy apologized. It should've been here a long time ago, but it got redelivered and then send back and, well, you know how it goes."

Frowning, Elena took the box, sitting down on her bed. As she opened the package, Stefan and Bonnie talked about the evening. The music. The food.

The last thing Elena heard before the content of the box dropped in her hands was something about Caroline's flimsy dress. Although she never heard what they said about it, because the second she saw it, everything around her just disappeared.

_Oh, my God._

Her heart almost beating out of her chest, she ran her fingers over the grey cover and the blue letters that read _Gone With the Wind._

Actually trembling, Elena opened the book to find the inscription she hadn't seen in years, the inscription her father had left her as a little girl.

_My dear, sweet girl,_

_May your life be easier than Scarlett's,_

_but may your heart be just as passionate,_

_just as free,_

_just as eager,_

_just as willing to take a risk._

_Believe me, love is worth it._

_Love brought me you and you are, and always will be, the light of my life._

_With a love deeper than you'll ever realize,_

_Daddy._

Feeling tears run down her chin, she noticed the little, white card underneath. With shaking fingers, she turned it around and just when she thought things couldn't get weirder, there it was. Beautiful, gracious, curly letters that spelled out,

_Happy birthday, my Elena._

_D._

And then, it was like someone turned on the light.

Like someone pulled the curtain back.

Like someone broke down the walls.

In a flash, she remembered.

Everything.

That night in the Salvatore House with Stefan asleep upstairs.

The Grill.

Christian.

Damon saving her. Touching her.

Her birthday.

The library.

The crash.

Hertz.

Her break-up with Stefan.

Damon's face when she told him she was his.

The Darkness.

Damon saving her again.

And every lie she was told after that.

Every. Single. One.

Slowly, Elena placed the book on the bed and got up, watching Stefan and Bonnie through whole new eyes. They were still talking, like friends. And that's what they were.

Friends.

Friends who'd worked together to keep the truth from her.

Friends who'd taken advantage of her memory loss to turn her into the girl they wanted her to be.

Friends who couldn't accept that she was about to take the road less travelled. The road to Damon.

Stefan was the first one to notice her.

"So, what was in the package?" he asked, a smile on his lips.

Elena didn't say a word. She just stared at him, betrayal pouring out of her eyes.

"Elena?" he asked, his voice still light. "What was in the−"

She hadn't meant to slap him. But that's what she did. And when her palm hit his cheek, she felt− for the first time−the extend of her anger. Of her rage. Of their betrayal.

Stefan gazed at her, confused. "OK, what was that−"

Another slap. Harder. And this time when he looked back at her, she could tell he knew. She could see it in his brown, big eyes. Guilt.

"Elena, I−"

Shaking her head, Elena pushed past him.

Bonnie grabbed her arm before she could get away, but when she shot her a hurt look, Bonnie understood there was nothing to say.

There was nothing she could say.

So she let go and could do nothing but watch Elena disappear into the night, knowing full well where−or _who_−she was running to.

* * *

Damon hadn't realized just how much crap he'd collected during his brief stay in Mystic Falls. Not until he was packing it all up.

Packing to leave.

Packing to leave _her_.

_Stop,_ he though, closing his eyes. _Don't think about her._

_Like that's going to happen._

Growling under his breath, he grabbed a handful of shirts, jeans and jackets and stuffed it in a bag, not even taking the trouble to fold them. He had to get out of there. Fast. Before he changed his mind. Before he broke her any further.

Damon took a quick glance around the room, giving up on his plan to take everything with him. He would be back.

Not in _her _lifetime, though.

He would make sure of that.

He would stay out of her way.

Snarling, he turned, about to walk out, when he stopped and turned back, reaching in his nightstand. Smiling, he looked at the pictures between his fingers. The pictures he'd taken from Elena's room. The pictures of them together. Happy. Smiling.

Shaking his head, he shoved them in his jacket and closed his bedroom door behind him for the last time.

When he passed the living room, he shot one last look at the couch. The couch where it had all begun. He could still see her sitting there, bare legged, smiling, crying, threating him like he was a real person, making him fall for her. Making her fall for him. Ruining her life.

But he would fix it.

Tonight.

He would fix it by doing the only thing he could do for her.

He would disappear.

Determined, Damon walked out of his house. But when the night air hit him, it brought with it a smell he was all too familiar with, a smell he wished he could bottle and keep with him through eternity, a smell that almost made him give up and give in. Slowly, he walked down his porch, his eyes glued to the road.

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

His lips pulled up when he saw her, running up the driveway, her brown hair floating in the wind. God, how was he ever going to do this with her there?

She was already halfway to the house by the time she saw Damon and for a second his imagination ran wild. For a second, he thought he saw her face light up the way it used to when she saw him. But those times were over. Those times needed to be over.

"Elena," he yelled, trying not to give away how much his entire body was screaming to meet her halfway and forget about this impossible plan to leave her behind. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't do that to her. So, he plastered an arrogant smile on his face and sang, "If you're here to try to slap me again, I should warn you, I−"

He never got to finish his warning, because before he could, she slammed into him, throwing her arms around his neck. He met her mouth with nearly a sob of relief, as though years and not days had separated them. Her lips were a miracle of heath and silk and give. And all he could think was,

_Oh God, I missed her._

The kiss raced like a lightning strike along his spine and seized his lungs with a simultaneous rush of panic and joy. As though he'd willingly flung himself backward from the roof and not only enjoyed the flight, but survived the fall unscathed.

His arms wrapped around her like they had a life of their own. He held her close. He could hear her moaning. Was aware of her fingers running through his hair. Trying to hold his face to hers. Trying to make their kiss last. Trying to urge him on to lose control. And it would be so easy to lose control. All he needed to do was push her back against the house, tear off her clothes, fill his hands and mouth with her breasts, slip his hands under her silky arse and give her no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and sink her nails into his shoulders, because damned if she wouldn't need to hold on for dear life when he plunged into her.

_Oh, God. Snug. Wet._

She tore her lips away from his, inhaling sharply. He'd forgotten she needed to breath. Smiling, she looked up at him, touching her lips as if she couldn't believe the kiss they'd just shared. It had been quite exceptional.

"Just like I remember it," she breathed, dark flames dancing in her eyes.

His heart took painful jabs at his breastbone. His blood was a thick, hot liquor. His mind a useless scramble. He knew he was supposed to be doing something, but the blood beating in his head, in his groin made it hard to think of anything else than how good she felt against him.

"You remember," he growled, his hand running up and down her back.

She nodded. "I remember everything. I−" Her eyes found the bag he'd dropped to his feet in the middle of their kiss. "Are you going somewhere?"

Suddenly, as mesmerized as he was-and very, very aroused-he remembered something himself.

He remembered what he'd been meant to do.

And why.

Nothing had changed.

He backed away slowly, slowly caressing her with his fingertips until he no longer touched her.

"I was," he said seeing confusing grow on her face. "I mean, I am."

"OK," she mumbled, smiling weakly. "When will you be back?"

He didn't say anything. Not with his mouth anyway. His eyes, however, told her everything. But it couldn't be what she thought it was. He wouldn't do that to her. Not after everything they'd been through.

"Damon," she repeated, a sickening feeling crawling up her throat. "When will you be back?"

"I'm not coming back, Elena."

For a second, Elena could've sworn Hertz' poison was back. She couldn't feel her body anymore, couldn't take a breath.

"No," she mumbled. "You're not leaving for good. Please, tell me you're not doing that to me."

He swallowed hard and when his eyes dropped, the hurt and confusion that was welling up inside Elena morphed into rage. "So, let me get this straight, you were going to sneak off into the night and just leave me behind?"

"Elena−"

"Answer me! Were you or were you not going to leave without so much as a goodbye?"

"Yes."

_No._

"I can't believe this," she whimpered, tears welling up. "Do I really mean so little to you that you could just walk away?"

He moved towards her and for a second, it looked like he was going to hold her again. But then, he stopped, pulling himself together, digging his nails into his thighs.

"Is it something I did?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Is it because I didn't remember you? It didn't mean anything!"

"It did, Elena."

"No, it didn't! I want to be with you!"

"I know. That's why I have to leave!"

"What?"

"Before you met me, you were fine, Elena!"

"Fine?"

"Think about it! Christian! Hertz! That all happened on my watch! Not Stefan's!"

"You saved me! Both times!"

"But you shouldn't need to be saved, Elena!" he yelled, his blue eyes glistening. "Don't you get it? You're not safe in my world!"

"And you think leaving me unprotected will be safer?"

"You're not unprotected!" he hissed, closing his eyes briefly before he said, "Stefan will be more than willing to keep you safe."

Elena's stomach turned as she tried her best to swallow back the lump in her throat. "So, you're basically handing me to your brother?"

There was a long pause and even though Elena could see how much his own words were killing him, it didn't do anything to temper her anger.

"You should go inside," Damon said, throwing his bag into the trunk. "There's a storm coming."

"Yeah," she snarled. "You're right! I should go inside! And maybe I should also take my clothes of and lie down in front of the fireplace so I look good when Stefan comes homes! I'll throw myself at his mercy, all naked and sweaty−"

Damon flung forward, touching her again, although she would've liked a kiss more than his fingers digging into her shoulders. Painfully.

"What, Damon?" she hissed, piercing his−now black−eyes. "Isn't that basically what you're telling me to do? To be with your brother? To forget about you?"

He backed away from her, his eyes just as angry, just as sad as hers. They were killing each other with their stubbornness, neither of them saying what they really wanted to say, neither of them willing to be vulnerable. However, when he grabbed his bag and threw it in his car, Elena realized he was about to drive out of her life, determined never to come back. And if a vampire wanted to disappear, there was no way a human could find him. She would never find him, never see him, never hold him again. No pride could overshadow the agony she felt at the mere thought of a life without Damon, so just when he opened his car door and prepared to get behind the wheel, she whispered,

"Please, don't go."

He didn't turn to look at her, but he didn't get in the car either. He just stood there, his hands on top of the door, clutching it.

"Please, Damon. I don't want Stefan. I want you."

"You'll get over it."

_I'll get over it?_

"Will _you_?" she asked, sadness making it hard to speak. "Will _you_ get over me that easily?"

Above them, the sky cried out, thunder expressing exactly how she felt inside.

"Answer me!" she bellowed, tears falling down. "Will you get over me?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"Yes! It matters!"

"Does it?"

"Yes!" she sobbed, clutching her hair. "It matters to me!"

"Why?"

"Why?" she mimicked, glaring at his back. "Because it does!"

"Yes, but why?"

"Because!"

"Because _what_?"

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

Damon had had those words said to him before and usually, all they did were make him leave as fast as he could, but now, now he was _supposed_ to leave, those same words glued him to the ground.

His muscles tense, Damon turned, watching her stand alone, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"What did you just say?" he asked, sure he'd heard wrong. After all, Elena Gilbert couldn't love him. Not him. She was too…_pure_ to love something as dark, as unredeemable as him. Even if his dark, unredeemable self longed for nothing else.

When he saw Elena throw her hands up, shrugging, he knew he'd heard her correctly. She loved him. He'd actually made her love him and it was the most evil thing he'd ever done.

"No," he growled. "You don't love me, Elena."

"I do."

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do, you stubborn ass! I love−"

"I killed Christian!" he screamed in an attempt to make her understand, to make her see.

Her smile dropped. Her eyebrows pulled together. "What?"

"I killed Christian," he snarled again, watching her closely. "And Max."

"No, you didn't," she said, shaking her head. "They were still alive when you took me to your home."

"I went back."

"What?"

"When you were in the shower. I went back to that house. They were still there. Waiting for the cops, like you'd told them to."

"And you just killed them," she asked, her heart sinking.

"No," he growled, his face animalistic. "I didn't _just_ kill them. I made them pay for what they did to you. For what they _tried_ to do to you. I tore them apart. Literally. By the time you got out of the shower, they were already dead and six feet under."

"You're lying."

"I'm really not."

He could see in her eyes she believed him, that she saw him. Who he really was. A monster. Someone who wasn't worthy of her love.

"Now tell me again you love me," he whispered.

Elena's mind was racing, taking in everything he'd told her. She could fool herself into believing he'd lied, but somehow, she knew it was true. It explained the slamming door that had startled her when she was snooping in his room. It explained why he was much more relaxed after her shower. And deep down, if she was truly honest, even back then, she'd known. She'd known they were dead. And it hadn't changed anything. She'd still let him in. In her life. In her body. In her heart. Who was she to turn him down now?

"I love you, Damon."

He shook his head, grinding his teeth. "Don't say that, Elena."

"Damned it," she hissed, frustrated. "I love you, Damon! Every single, dark, hidden part of you! And you can try to run from me, but I'll try just as hard to find you! And I won't stop! I'll spend the rest of my life, looking for you! So, why don't you cut me a break, get your ass away from that fucking car and just…kiss me!"

Thunder boomed through the night.

The clouds burst open, rain pouring down.

Lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the scene below, the scene where a vampire was staring at a human girl, making the most important decision of his long, immortal life.

"You love me?" he yelled over the thunder and rain.

"Yes!" she screamed back, her clothes and hair clinging to her body.

"_You_ love _me_?"

"Yes!"

_She loves me._

A vampire only has a little amount of self-control and seeing Elena Gilbert stand there, in the rain, declaring her love to him, wiped every ounce of his away.

Suddenly, getting in that car was physically impossible.

Suddenly, not touching her was physically impossible.

Three steps, that's all it took for him to reach her.

The kiss they shared then wasn't a tentative kiss. The hot, tender brand of his mouth, the scrape of his stubbles against her chin, the delicate touch of his tongue against hers. It was a real Damon-kiss. Thorough, carnal, possessive and just radiating heat. She was so lost in him, she hadn't even felt they'd moved until there was no more rain.

As he slammed the door behind him, Damon's tongue dove greedily, tangling with hers.

_God, I want him._

More turned on than she knew she could be, her hands slid down, down over his chest, until she found his pants, until she found his buckle.

The second the leather buckle crashed to the floor, he slid his hands underneath her soaking shirt, pulling it over her head. She did the same to him, desperate to feel his bare skin against her, desperate to feel his heath.

Need wracked him, he shook with it, with the force of desire for this woman. _Only_ this woman. Groaning, he ducked his head into her throat, kissing the thump of her heart there. How many times had he done the same to other women with the intend to bite down and listen to it slow.

"Are you OK?"

He hadn't even noticed his lips had stopped touching her skin.

Slowly, he pulled back and smoothed her wet hair out of her face, tenderly. He knew so many words, in so many languages and yet none of them came to him now. He simply couldn't speak. She'd stolen his breath. So he just brought his mouth down to hers. His lips floated near, then brushed hers, sweetly. His tongue touched the corner of her mouth, tasting salt, the taste of her fear and fury and love. But before he could relish in it any further, her lips took command of his. She nipped at them, her mouth parted and she sought his tongue. And her mouth was so hot and so giving he was ferociously aroused. Clearly, she felt the same, because her hand was already slipping inside his pants, stroking the length of him. He was swollen, almost leaping in her hand.

"Elena−"

His voice was hoarse, he heard it as if it was coming from far away, from somewhere outside his body. It was both a plea and a warning to her. He knew they weren't going to make it to his bedroom. There was too much desire, too much want.

She nodded once and he knew she understood. He knew she understood him.

Slowly, seductively, Elena backed away from him, keeping her eyes on his while unbuttoning her pants. By the time she reaches the fireplace her pants were on the floor. So was her bra. And Damon was clenching his fists by his side, watching her strip.

When her panties hit the floor, Damon became a blur and then she was on the floor, Damon on top of her, kissing her, touching the unthinkable tender insides of her thighs. Elena arched her hips upwards at his touch, writhing against him, trying to get him where she wanted him, where she needed him, seeking more pleasures.

Growling, he positioned his body above her and didn't waste any time. He couldn't handle foreplay. He would explode. And he had a feeling she would too. She was already dripping wet. So as soon as he was on top of her, he eased into the tightness of her. Gently at first, but then he trust home with a roaring oath of bliss as Elena's fingers sank into his arms.

Their eyes locked as he held himself above her, trembling and in that instant, Damon Salvatore knew only one thing for certain.

"I love you."

He could see shock take over her eyes before they turned soft and teary . "You do?"

He leaned down, putting his forehead against hers when he said, "God, yes."

Moaning from desire and pure happiness, Elena slid her hands over his hips were their bodies joined.

His pupils flared, his eyes were midnight.

He drew his hips back slowly, his eyes fixed on her face, watching for her reaction, his eyes flaring in triumph when she threw her head back and her mouth parted to gasp of pleasure.

The hot slide of him inside her was extraordinary, glorious. She gripped his arms, not knowing what else to do. He trust again and she screamed, not even trying to hide what he did to her, what he did to her body.

Another thrust. Another scream.

"Deeper, Damon," she moaned, locking her feet behind his back. "Please, deeper."

He growled above her, the muscles in his neck throbbing. "Can't."

"Please," she moaned, writhing against him. "I need you deeper."

He growled, his nails digging into the hardwood floors beside her head.

He shook his head, sweat beading his upper lip, his teeth sinking into the lower one. She felt the force of his desire for her, for _her_, in the quivering muscles beneath her fingers, in the fevered heath of skin, in the rapid rise and fall of his hard shoulders. And yet, she knew something was wrong.

"What is it, Damon?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Am I doing something wrong."

He would've laughed at that if he hadn't been so preoccupied. "No, sweetness. Believe me, you're doing everything right."

"Then what is it?"

His nostrils flaring he breathed, "I want to make love to you."

She laughed a little, the shocks of it almost sending his cock over the edge.

"You are making love to me," she said, claiming his lips again.

He kissed back, but only briefly.

"No, you don't understand," he hissed, lowering his head so he could whisper in her ear. "I want to make love to you, but every fiber in my being wants to _fuck_ you, Elena. The animal inside of me doesn't want to be sweet or gentle. It wants to fuck you and God help me, I want to listen. I want you hard. Fast. Deep. _So_ deep."

Elena shivered at his hot words, feeling him grown even more in responds.

"Do it," she rasped against this damp neck. "Don't hold back with me."

"I could hurt you."

"I don't care," she said, bucking her hips. "Fuck me, Damon. Fuck me like want to, like you need to. I can take it."

He hesitated. She bucked her hips again and that shredded his control until he abandoned it all together. His desire set the pace then, plunging into her without remorse, without restraint. His cock drummed into her in a primal rhythm, the force of his big body rocking her already making her tighten, already making her climax. When she came, he smiled down at her in that arrogant way only he could.

"That's one," he growled, starting at a slow rhythm again until she came down from her high. Which didn't take long.

He sat up straight. She wanted to do the same, but he kept her in place, only picking her legs up to meet his new position. As he slammed into her, keeping a tight hold on her knees, the sound of his flesh against hers was unbearably erotic.

"Damon, you're going to make me come again," she screamed, arching up from the floor. "God, Damon, make me come ag−" she trembled in his hands.

"Two."

He didn't slow down this time, didn't give her time to recover. He relentlessly kept going, picking up his pace even more, his face rapt. He was driving himself to his release, she realized, loving the sight. But then, she realized something else.

It wasn't enough.

There was one more thing she needed, one more thing he needed. Something she never thought she'd want until that very moment.

"Damon,"

He looked at her through heated eyes, unable to speak at this point.

"Drink from me."

That made him find his voice again, and although he never slowed his hips down, he did grab her waist and positioned her so she straddled him. She wasn't in control though. He was still bucking into her, his hands on her hips setting the pace.

"What?" His voice was husky.

"Drink from −" she shrieked, this new position touching her insides in new, thrilling ways. "Oh, yes, right there!"

He hit the spot she'd referred to again and again and just when she was on the verge of coming, she felt his teeth scraping her neck. Two teeth to be exact.

"Do it, Damon! Drink while you're fucking me!"

He didn't hesitate and the second his teeth sank into her, her body shattered again. And so did his. She could feel his warm seed filling her as her warm blood dripped down her neck.

"Three," he grunted as they collapsed on the floor.

Feeling happier than she'd ever thought she could be, she laughed, snuggling up against him.

"I love you, Damon."

"I _love_ you, Elena."

"Good," she whimpered, kissing his sweaty chest. "Now, let's do that again."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, guys! I know this is the shortest chapter I've ever written, but I needed to have one chapter (even if it is a short one) that was all DELENA bliss and happiness. Off course, more of this will follow, but danger is upon them :-)! Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

In his long, immortal life, Damon had gazed upon the most amazing things. He'd watched the sun come up over the Great Pyramid of Giza, walked up and down The Great Wall of China, lain underneath the Aurora Borealis, roamed through Machu Picchu, spend months in the Amazon Rainforest, stood underneath the Iguassu Falls and yet, never, had he seen anything more beautiful than Elena Gilbert, lying on her side, flames dancing on her tanned skin, her big, brown eyes watching him in a way that warmed the heart he didn't know he still had.

"Can we stay here forever?"

Damon smiled, slowly running a finger from her shoulder to her hips, tracing her curves. "If you want to."

"I do."

"OK, then," he whispered, propping up on one elbow. "We won't move a muscle."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," she sang, biting her lip. "Moving could be nice."

"Is that so?" Damon rumbled, his eyes getting that dark glint again.

"Mmmm," she sang, slowly raising her head until her lips were only inches from his. "Very nice."

"Miss Gilbert, are you trying to seduce me?"

"I have to try now?"

"No," he growled moments before his head dipped down and his mouth became a hot point of fire on her neck.

Elena closed her eyes, letting the wanton in her rage freely. And once again, she was astounded by how familiar this already felt. Being naked with Damon felt like the most natural thing in the world. There was no shame, no boundaries. And he already knew her body so well.

"Oh, God," she moaned when his mouth covered her nipple. "How is that possible?"

"How's what possible, sweetness?" he growled, his hot breath against her moist nipple making her shiver.

"We've been at this for hours," she groaned. "I should be exhausted. How could I still want more? How−"

His teeth grazed her nipple. She threw her head back, entwining her fingers in his hair.

"You were saying?"

"Oh, God, who cares," she gasped, his lips moving down to her belly.

He let out a little laugh as he grabbed her waist and turned her on her back.

The closer he got to her throbbing center, the more her sex grew wet, hot. So, when his mouth finally pressed down on her, she screamed, her back arching up from the floor.

If Damon Salvatore knew how to use his hands, his skill with his mouth surpassed that. His tongue was a hot pressure that parted her opening and delved straight inside her.

This was heaven.

Elena threaded her fingers through his hair and held on as he drank her. In a non-vampire way.

She felt like she was going to die. Her body was so tired, so spent and yet it wanted more, it needed more. And Damon was more than willing to accommodate her. And how. She couldn't imagine that any man could ever pleasure her better than Damon. He knew how to use his tongue and lips, even his teeth, to drive her insane. She found herself rocking back and forth, her incoherent cries ringing to the ceiling.

Damon's morning whiskers scratched her skin as his wonderful mouth kept up its torture. He smoothed her belly and breasts, his tongue encouraging her to release. And she knew it wouldn't take her long. Whimpering, he took her foot and placed it on his shoulder, allowing him to slip in even deeper. That's all it took. Her heel dug into his shoulder, he looked up at her with a heated gaze, doubling his speed and then she came. Hard. So hard, she didn't even notice he'd turned her over. Not until she felt his lips trail a hot path from her buttocks to her collarbone. Her spine went boneless as the cool silk of his hair brushed her jaw and at once, she could feel she was ready for him. Again.

"You are so beautiful," he growled in her ear, nibbling her earlobe. "So _beautiful_."

He uttered that last word as a groan as he entered her, making her cry out. How much more could her human body possibly take.

_Much more._

His hips moved, filling her completely. Her toes curled, her nails dug into the hardwood floor above her head like she was hanging on for dear life.

"God, Elena," he moaned, moving so his entire body rested on hers. "You're still so tight."

She couldn't say anything. All she could do was gasp at each of his thrust and try not to pass out of pure pleasure. Which wasn't easy, 'cause feeling him slide over her back as he bucked into her again and again was sensational.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled against the nape of her neck.

"You too," she whimpered, "You're_ so_ hard."

He growled again, a real animalistic growl, one of those that used to scare her, but now almost made her come on the spot.

"Fuck, Elena," he moaned. "I'm almost there, sweetness. I'm almost coming."

"Me too," she whimpered, feeling herself tighten. "Make me come, Damon."

He drove into her harder, hitting every spot. His hands slammed down on hers, entwining their fingers.

"Fuck!" he bellowed, their fingers tightening around each other. "Tell me you're ready, Elena!"

"Yes," she breathed, her nipples rubbing over the wood. "Yes, Damon! Come inside of me! Now!"

They screamed in unison and once more, Elena was glad his house was in the middle of nowhere. Neighbors would've called nine-one-one by now. A lot.

She didn't know how long it took her to recover, but by the time the black spots had disappeared in front of her eyes, Damon was next to her again.

"So," he rumbled, smiling at her in that arrogant, masculine way. "How many was that? I lost count."

She wanted to slap his chest, but her limbs were numb, so instead, she rolled her eyes and said, "You act like I'm the only one receiving pleasure."

"Oh," he rumbled, pulling her against his chest. "I can assure you that that's not the case, Love. I receive _multiple_ pleasures."

Elena's heart skipped a beat. "Say that again."

Damon frowned. "I receive multiple pleasures?"

Elena chuckled, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. "No, _Love_. I like it."

A corner of his lips pulled up when he rumbled, "I like it, too."

As Elena gazed up at him, she noticed the thick curtains were lighter than before. "What time is it?"

He sat up a little to check the clock, the muscles in his chest flexing underneath her. "Two."

"In the morning?" she gasped. "We've been on this floor for three hours?"

Damon moved a little so they were lying face-to-face and said in a voice thick with pride, "It's two in the afternoon, sweetheart."

"Oh God," she laughed. "No wonder I'm sore."

"You're sore?"

The worry in his voice and eyes made her heart melt.

"It's a good sore," she sang, playing with the hair in the nape of his neck. "A happy, content, _satisfied_ sore."

He smiled, caressing her nose with his. "In that case−"

He kissed her sweetly, his fingers running up and down her spine and already, her skin was set on fire again. He knew. Somehow, he could feel her want, her desire.

He deepened their kiss, but just when Elena was drowning in his taste again, he pulled back, sitting up.

"What's happening?" she asked, sitting up, too.

"Get the blanket from the couch."

She didn't hesitate. There was something in his voice that told her this was serious. So, she reached out, pulling the black wool to her.

"I think you better wrap that around you," he said, his eyes on the door.

"Why?"

"Because someone's coming."

The words had barely passed his lips when there was a knock on the door.

"Stefan?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know," Damon said, jumping up and pulling his pants back on. "But whoever it is, there's no heartbeat. So wrap that around you and stay here."

Another knock.

Damon moved forward. Elena grabbed his arm.

"Damon," she said, shaking her head.

"I'll be fine," he said, trying to put a light note in his voice. Unsuccessfully. "We'll be right back on that floor in a minute."

She nodded, letting go of him.

Damon tensed his muscles, shifting his body from utterly blissful and relaxed into warrior-modus. It wasn't difficult. All he had to do was imagine Elena getting hurt and he was ready to kill on view.

He reached for the doorknob and heard Elena's heart speed up dangerously fast. She was scared. For him.

With one brusque tug, the door was open and he stared right into the big, cheeky eyes of−

"Rose?"

"Hello, Salvatore."

"What do you want?"

"So snippy," she said, pushing past him inside.

Damon cut of her path, pressing a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

She looked down at that hand, smiling. "Come on, Damon."

They had a staring competition until Damon let go, snarling, "This isn't a good time."

She looked over his shoulder, singing, "I can see that. Hello."

Elena was snapped out of her surprise. "Hello."

The woman, this Rose, walked towards her with Damon right behind her. And for some reason, Elena didn't feel threatened by the short-haired woman. She felt _embarrassed_, but not threatened.

"You must be Elena," Rose sang, holding out her hand. "I'm Rose−Marie. But everyone calls me Rose."

Elena held on to the blanket tighter with her left hand and shook Rose's hand with her right. "Elena Gilbert. I've seen you before. On my birthday. It just took me a second to recognize you without Damon's tongue shoved in your mouth."

She didn't like the jealous note in her voice. It was too hard, too mean. And Rose picked up on it. Still, the vampire remained kind, sweet even.

"If it's any consolation," she said. "He was only doing that to make you jealous."

Elena smiled at Damon. "Really?" she sang.

Rose nodded, "Yeah. The only person he wanted to shove something into was you and at the sight of it−"

"OK," Damon jumped in, earning a grateful look from a blushing Elena. "Is there a reason you're here, Rose or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

"Both," she said, turning to face him. "I need to talk to you."

"About?"

She cocked a meaningful eyebrow. "It's private."

"Elena can hear whatever you have to say."

Rose cast him a pleading look.

"It's OK," Elena said, grabbing her clothes of the floor. "I need a shower anyway."

She almost laughed at the ferocious look in Damon's eyes. He didn't want her to leave. And something inside her heated up again when she saw that raw lust in his eyes.

Damon walked her to the stairs, stopping at the bottom.

"I'll join you in a minute," he growled, tracing her collarbone, the feel of her skin smooth, sweaty underneath his fingertips .

"Hurry," she said, teasingly running her hand down his chest. "I'll need help getting all soapy and slippery."

He growled, his eyes darkening. Elena smiled at the power she had over him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before running up the stairs.

"It was nice meeting you, Rose!" she yelled over her shoulder.

And she meant it, too. She liked Rose for some reason.

"Very nice meeting you, Elena!"

"OK," Damon snarled, walking back to the spunky brunette with a buldge in his pants that was missing Elena already. "This better be good."

"Depends on what you mean by_ good_," she said, her voice heavier than before.

"Just spit it out, Rose. What is this about?"

She sighed deeply and said, "Hertz. It's about Hertz."


	18. Chapter 18

**I know, I know, I'm so sorry I disappeared again, but things are sooo hectic in my life right now, you don't even know. Anyway, I want to assure all of you that this story WILL NOT DIE! I'll keep updating, don't worry! Damon and Elena won't let me quit! They keep popping up in my head, demanding I put them on paper and, seriously, who's dumb enough to argue with Damon Salvatore? Not me! **

**So, as Damon commanded, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Everything felt different.

Her body.

Her soul.

Her heart.

There was no more conflict, no more doubt, no more pain. She was exactly where she needed to be.

With _who_ she needed to be.

_Damon._

She smiled at her reflection as memories of the night before hit her. Why had she waited so long to admit how she felt about him? It had been such a waste of time, last night had proven that in more ways than one. Not only had she never been more physically pleasured, but she'd also never felt more complete, more _right_. She belonged with Damon and by some miraculous twist of faith, Damon belonged with her.

Rubbing a towel over her wet hair, she bit her lip, keeping the chuckles inside. She'd never been this giddy. Her mouth started to hurt from smiling all the time and when she grabbed one of Damon's shirts and tucked it in her jeans, she actually found herself humming. She never hummed!

Nevertheless, that's exactly what she did, even as she leaned against the window and watched the woods bathe in sunlight. Talk about a room with a view. Still, there was one thing missing to make everything just perfect. Damon. She'd been waiting for him in the shower for over half an hour before she figured out he wasn't coming and that had stung more than a little. However, she didn't want to be the kind of girlfriend who monopolized all off his time. Even though the thought of not being with him hurt.

A lot.

She wouldn't be clingy. She would be the perfect girlfriend. She would be loving and patient and understanding, even when all she wanted to do was go downstairs, tell Rose to shove off and make love to Damon until the sun came up…again.

She shook her head, tucking a curl behind her ear. Was it so bad that she didn't want to share him with the rest of the world? Was it bad that she wanted to lock herself up with him inside his house and never leave? Hadn't they spend enough time apart?

She decided they had.

Giddy again, she tiptoed out of the room, listening if they were still talking, but she couldn't hear anything. They weren't in the living room anymore. Frowning, she made her way down the stairs and it was only when she reached the bottom step that she heard his voice−God, that voice− drifting to her from the library. She smiled all the way to the cracked door, until she realized Damon's voice wasn't the usual silky song. He was angry. Very angry. So Elena did something she'd never done before and silently swore she'd never do again.

She eavesdropped.

* * *

"You are out of your mind, Damon!" Rose snarled. "You can't go after him!"

"Watch me!" Damon growled, shoving the weapons from the oak chest into his duffel bag.

"Damon−"

"You can't talk me out of this, Rose!"

"This is ludicrous, you idiot! Hertz will kill you!"

"He can try!"

"Damon, please," she pleaded. "You don't even know what's going on! For all we know, he's not coming after her! His wife could've just left him!"

Damon huffed. "Rose, I know the Hertz'! I spent over a decade with them! Abigail would never leave him! If she's gone, they took her!"

"OK, maybe they did, but that doesn't mean you have to−"

"And if they took her," he continued angrily. "Then I can only assume they're either holding her as leverage until he finishes his job or they killed her and he's going to want revenge! Either way, he's going to come after her!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because it's what I would do," he mumbled, zipping up his bag. "For Elena. It's what I would do."

Rose frowned, watching him throw his arsenal over his shoulder. "You love her."

"Yes," he simply said. "I do."

"Does she love you?"

"By some miracle."

"Then don't do this," Rose whispered. "This is suicide."

"Maybe," he rumbled. "But I need to try. I have nothing to lose."

"Nothing to lose?"

Damon hadn't even heard her approach. He'd been so caught up in his rage that he hadn't noticed her racing heartbeat that was now thumping away in his doorframe.

"Elena−" he started.

"**NOTHING TO LOSE, DAMON?**" she screamed, her eyes filled with tears. "Did you not just hear her say that you'll die!"

Damon swallowed hard, staring at the girl he loved. "I won't die. I'll kill Hertz and I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone."

_Unlikely._

Shaking her head, Elena faced Rose and said, "Is he telling the truth?"

"No."

"Rose!" Damon snarled.

"Hertz is older than him," the vampire continued like he hadn't spoken. "He's stronger. Not to mention he has those poisonous choppers. He won't win."

"He'll lose," Elena whispered, her eyes sad on Damon's. "He'll die."

"Yes."

Rubbing her forehead, Elena leaned back against the wall, her insides knotting together painfully. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose him.

"Rose," Damon snarled. "Leave us."

Rose did as he asked and as soon as the door closed behind her, Damon dropped his bag to the floor and made his way towards Elena.

But she raised her hand, signaling him to keep his distance. She couldn't let him do that thing he did. That thing that made her forget.

That thing that made her mind fuzzy.

Not now.

"Elena," he said, his voice softer. "Love−"

"No!" she yelled, shaking her head. "No, don't call me Love! You don't love me!"

"Hey!" he yelled back. "You know that that's not true! You know I love you more than anything!"

"Bullshit! How can you possibly love me if you're even thinking about getting yourself killed!"

"Elena−"

"Do you have any idea what losing you would do to me?" she screamed, tears trickling down her face. "How the hell would I go on, Damon? How−"

Her throat closed up with tears. Sobbing, she put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to push away the images that had popped up. Images of Damon. Dying.

More tears welled up, but before they could slither down, two strong arms wrapped around her and she was pressed against a hard chest.

"Please," she whispered as his fingers ran through her hair. "Please, don't go."

"I can't just stand by and let Hertz get to you."

She looked up into his beautiful eyes, still snuggled against him. "But he's not getting to me, Damon. Rose says he's not even after me."

"Yet."

"Rose will keep an eye on him, right?"

He nodded, his thumb wiping away the last remaining teardrops on her cheeks.

"Then, please, stay with me."

"But Hertz−"

"−will or will not come for me, but if he does, we−_together_−will come up with a better plan than committing suicide."

He looked at her, sighing.

"Please, sweetheart."

He shook his head, pinching his nose before he said, "Fine."

A big smile spread across Elena's face. "Thank−"

"But−" he cut her off, his eyes serious. "−just so you know, if it comes down to you and me, I'll chose you. Every time. Do you understand."

"Yes," she said, clutching his shirt. "But just so _you_ know, if it comes down to you and me, I'll chose _you_. Every time."

He frowned, cupping her cheek. "I'm serious, Elena. I can't lose you."

"You won't. I promise."

"You better keep that promise, Gilbert. I kind of love you, you know."

Elena smiled, pressing a kiss to his chin. "I kind of love you more, Salvatore."

"That's not possible," he whispered before claiming her lips.

* * *

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"I never said it was."

"Damon−"

Damon sighed, shifting gears. "Elena, I've agreed not to go after Hertz, but this is my condition. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Can't we just stay at my house, then?"

"That was my first idea, but I thought you might be opposed to putting your aunt and Jeremy in the line of fire."

Elena swallowed hard. "Right. Good point."

"Not to mention that your little bed is way too tiny to accommodate our _needs_."

He looked at her in that simmering way he did and Elena was surprised to find that even in the midst of everything that was going on, her insides still reacted to him.

"I'm just nervous," she said, trying to keep her head on the goal.

"About moving in together?" Damon rumbled, doing that eye-thing he did.

"No," she smiled weakly, nudging his side. "You know about what."

"Yeah, I know."

"Where do you think he is?"

"No idea," he said, parking in front of her house. "But I think we should start where you last saw him."

"Well," she said as she knocked on her door. "This should be fun."

"Everything will be OK."

"Obviously, you've never had an aunt who worried about you when you stayed out all night and didn't pick up your phone."

"Be glad you have someone who cares about you that much."

A flicker of pain crossed his eyes and Elena's heart ached.

Swiftly, she grabbed his hand and whispered, "You have someone who cares, too. Don't forget that."

He smiled, his eyes dropping to where her little hand clutched around his. "How could I forget? It's all I ever think about."

She bit her lip, but just when she was about to lean in for a kiss, the door opened, revealing a very exhausted and wide−eyed Jenna.

"Where the hell have you been!" she shrieked, her voice raw. Clearly, she hadn't slept.

"I−"

"And why didn't you call me?"

"I'm sorry, I was−"

"Jeremy and I were going out of our minds!"

"I know, I−"

"And Bonnie hasn't stopped calling me−"

"Bonnie?" Elena snorted. "Bonnie's worried? Good!"

"Good? She's your best friend!"

"Was," Elena mumbled, adding when she saw Jenna's puzzled face, "It's a long story."

"And Stefan?" she shrieked.

Damon's hand tightened around hers.

"That's an even longer story," Elena said, glancing over Jenna's shoulder. "Is he here by any chance?"

"No, he's not. He left last night, very upset. He probably went home."

"No, he didn't."

"How do you know−" Only then, did she noticed Damon, which to Elena was baffling. Damon was always the first thing _she_ noticed.

"What the hell is going on?" Jenna shrieked, her eyes finding their entwined hands.

Elena could feel Damon trying to pull his hand away, but she kept a tight grip on him, a move that made Damon's heart sing. She wasn't ashamed to be seen with him. On the contrary.

"I need to talk to you," Elena interrupted his pride. "Inside."

Jenna frowned, but stepped aside, the wrinkle between her eyes only getting deeper when Damon pushed past her.

"So," Jenna said, closing the door. "I guess this solves the mystery of who you cheated on Stefan with."

"Actually," Damon mumbled. "That mystery was solved a while ago. You just forgot."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind," he said, before turning to Elena and whispering, "I'll go pack your things."

Elena nodded, giving his hand one last squeeze before he disappeared up the stairs.

"Damon Salvatore, Elena?" Jenna said as soon as she thought Damon was out of hearing distance. "Stefan's brother?"

"I know. It's−"

"Wrong? Weird? Dumb? All of the above?"

"Love," Elena said, smiling. "I love him."

"Elena, I've heard about him and−"

"−you should always believe rumors?"

"No, but…_Damon Salvatore_, Elena?"

"Yeah," she said, that giddy feeling crawling to the surface again. "Damon Salvatore. Anyway, I didn't come here for you permission. I came because I'm moving in with him."

"Excuse me? You're doing _what _now?"

"It's only temporary. I just need to be close to him for the time being."

"Yeah, I don't think so," Jenna snickered hysterically. "You're seventeen! There will be no closeness with the twenty-something man!"

"Jenna!"

"No! I'm your legal guardian and you're not leaving this house!"

"Jenna, come on, you're the one who said I should give into him, remember? You said I shouldn't compromise!"

"That was before I knew you were talking about Damon Salvatore!"

Elena shook her head, sniffing. "I thought you were better than gossip and prejudice."

"Not when it comes to my underage niece!"

"Fine!" Elena snapped, stalking up the stairs. "Have it your way, then!"

"God!" she yelled, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

Damon smiled, watching her from where he was sitting down on her bed.

"What's so funny?" she hissed, running a hand through her hair.

"You," he said, sliding over to her like a jungle cat. "You're sexy when you're angry."

"Shut up," she snapped, trying to hide the smile that was surfacing.

"Oh," he growled, putting his hands on her hips. "Snap at me again. I like it."

"Damon, I'm really ticked off."

"Yes, you are," he sang, his voice suddenly deeper.

She couldn't push back the smile then and when his lips pressed down on her neck, she found herself giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Stop," she snickered, pushing against his chest. "Jenna is right downstairs and she's not your biggest fan."

"Don't worry, she'll warm up to me."

"Oh, really?"

"Mmmm," he murmured seconds before his tongue flicked against the sweet spot behind her ear. "Sweetness," he growled against her neck. "You should know better than anyone how good I am at warming people up."

Oh, did she _know_.

"We can't," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back.

He didn't say anything. He just grabbed her−or technically _his_−shirt and slowly tugged it out of her jeans.

"Damon−"

"I miss you, Elena," he rumbled, his lips grazing the curve of her ear as his hands slipped up her belly. "Don't you miss me…inside of you?"

Her nails dug deeper into his back, the night between her legs pulsing uncontrollably. "Yes," she admitted, feeling his big, strong hands cup her breasts. "God, yes."

That was all the permission Damon needed. Before she could protest any further, his hands were on her butt and he was lifting her up, pressing her body as close to his as possible. Her legs got a mind of their own and wrapped themselves around his waist. At once, she could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her throbbing center and just like that, her mind shut down. All she could think about was that there were too many clothes separating them from each other. Frantically, Elena grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. Admiring his ripped muscled, she leaned down and pressed open mouthed kisses to his chest, tasting the little, salty drops of sweat that were already forming there.

Damon let out a primal growl, his head dropping back as her tongue slid over his heated skin. Never in his long life had Damon Salvatore ever thought a mortal girl would be able to set him on fire the way she did. It wasn't just her skillful tongue, it was everything. Her mouthwatering smell, her smooth skin, even just the way she looked at him or the way she held his hand in hers. She was _perfect_. And she was his. _All _his.

His fingers digging deeper into her behind, he stepped back until he was sitting down on her bed with Elena on top of him, straddling him, her sex grinding over his painful erection in a way he knew he wouldn't be able to stand for long.

Grimacing, he flipped her on her back, rejoicing at her surprised expression.

"What?" he rumbled, feeling a little bit more comfortable now he was the dominant party. "Vampire, remember."

"How could I forget," she breathed, reaching out for his mouth. It was only when her fingers found his fangs, that he realized they were out. And she wasn't scared. She was never scare of him and −even though he'd spend his entire vampire existence building a reputation as a vampire every living and non-living being should be scared off−seeing the unconditional love and acceptance in Elena's eyes only made him grow harder, if that was even possible.

"I want you, Damon," she moaned, her feet rubbing over his calves.

He almost came at that. But he stopped himself just in time, reminding himself it was much warmer inside of her that inside of his pants.

Snarling, he grabbed her bra and ripped it off, not caring that he might have hurt her or that it might've been one of those ridiculously expensive, lace bra's. All he cared about were the two full, creamy breasts that were now exposed underneath him.

He went straight for her nipple, suckling it so hard she let out a little scream.

"Sssh, sweetness," he growled, watching her with heated eyes. "Don't want Jenna to hear us, now do we?"

"Oh, God," Elena whimpered, momentarily snapping out of her haze. "Jenna. We can't…_Oh, right there_."

Damon smiled as he brought his face up to hers, staring into her brown eyes as his thumb flicked over her clit. God, how he loved the sight of her like this.

Cheeks flushed.

Hair rummaged.

Muscles tense.

"You're already close, aren't you?" he growled, watching her little fists squeeze the sheets like her life depended on it. "You're almost coming."

She nodded, unable to speak, her back arching up from the bed.

Smiling wickedly, Damon doubled his thumbs' pace as he used another finger to rub between her wet folds.

Elena was lost in her own, personal heaven, writhing underneath him, panting, heaving as he brought her closer and closer to the release she desperately needed.

"Oh−Oh−Oooooohh God," she screamed. "Damon!"

Growling primaly, he put a hand over her mouth, bringing another finger to the party. "Quit, sweetness," he said, his voice hoarse.

He didn't actually want her to be silent. He wanted her to scream, to trash, to come with his name on her tongue. But if Jenna heard them, Elena would be mortified. And he didn't want her to be ashamed. Not of this. He wanted her to be uninhibited. Out of control. He wanted her to be−

"Elena?"

Elena's eyes snapped open, but not for the reason Damon had wanted her to become all wide-eyed. It was because of the voice that had interrupted her delight. Because of the boy that was advancing towards her bedroom door.

Faster than he knew a human could move, Elena scrambled from underneath him and pulled on her shirt, throwing his black one at him in a way he didn't like. At all.

"I guess I'll put this on," he growled, suffering from a serious case of blue balls.

Elena didn't pick up on his annoyance. She was too busy panicking, smoothing her hair down to erase all evidence of their moment of passion. A moment that had turned out to be very unsatisfying for both parties.

Just when Damon was getting up to put on his shirt, Elena's door opened and Jeremy walked in.

The boy's eyes flickered from a half-naked Damon to his sister who was fumbling with her jeans since Damon had ripped of the button in his eagerness to get to her.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jeremy snapped, watching Damon pull the shirt over his head. "_Him_, Elena?"

Damon growled under his breath, but instead of snapping the boy's neck−he had a feeling Elena wouldn't like that−he grabbed a bag from Elena's closet and started packing her belongings.

"It's a long story, Jer. All you need to know is that I'll be going away for a while."

"With _him_?"

"Yes," Elena snapped. "With _him_. And in case you're interested, his name is Damon."

The vampire looked up from her nightstand for a second to cast her a little smile.

"I'm not," Jeremy sniffed. "Interested. At all."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I thought Jenna was high when she told me my sister wanted to move in with Damon Salvatore, but apparently, _you're _the one that's high."

Damon took a threatening step towards the boy, snarling.

"Damon, don't," she said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Wauw,"Jeremy hissed. "He's a real catch. I wonder how long it's going to be before he starts hitting you."

Damon was out of her grasp and slamming Jeremy against the door before she could blink.

"Damon!"

"If you weren't her brother, I'd rip your beating heart out of your chest, you adolescent, ignorant−"

"**DAMON, STOP!**"

His nostrils flaring, Damon shot Elena a quick look before he intensified his gaze into Jeremy's eyes. She knew what that gaze meant.

"Damon, don't−"

"Love," he said, his voice still rough. "This is the only way. If your aunt won't voluntarily let you go−"

"I just need more time to convince her−"

"We don't have more time, Elena! We don't know when Hertz is coming−"

"Or _if _he's coming−"

"But," he growled, ignoring her. "We know that when he comes, he'll be coming for you, so your line of defense will either be one hard to kill vampire or two very digestible snacks."

Elena sighed, shaking her head. She knew he was right. It killed her, but she knew. She had to get Jeremy and Jenna as far away from her as she could.

"OK," she mumbled, grabbing another handful of her belongings. "Just try to keep the compulsion to a minimum, alright?"

Damon nodded and turned back to Jeremy, his voice deeper and lower than before when he said, "Your sister is fine. You don't necessarily approve of her choice in men, but you trust that she's smart and amazing enough to make her own decisions. You love her. And you know she loves you and she'll always be there for you."

Elena gave him a little smile before he added, "And you will never, under any circumstance, invite someone into your home that you don't know. Understood?"

Jeremy nodded and Damon let go of him, snapping the boy out of his trance.

"So, you're going?" Jeremy said, watching Elena zip up her bag.

Damon smiled, throwing the bag over his shoulder and disappearing into the hallway.

Elena watched him leave−and man, did she love to _watch_ him leave− and then nodded at her brother, pushing back how weird it felt to have this discussion all over again. "Yes."

"Are you sure this is smart? I mean, Damon Salvatore is−"

"−the man I love, Jer. I'll be alright."

Jeremy smiled weakly, saying, "If you think this is the right thing to do, I'll support you."

"Thank you," Elena sang, feeling a little pang of guilt. "And I'm just a phone call away. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

By the time Elena had changed−she'd been forced to put on a red skirt since it was all Damon had left in her closet, something Elena suspected wasn't a coincidence-and made it downstairs, it was clear that Damon had already compelled Jenna, since her aunt was laughing with the vampire she'd disapproved of only minutes ago.

"Ready to go?" Elena sang, a little freaked out by the scene.

When Damon saw her, his eyes immediately darted down to her long, tanned, bare legs and what she saw in those eyes made those legs almost give in.

Desire.

So profound.

So real.

So pure.

If it hadn't been for Jenna standing right there, she had a feeling she wouldn't have made it one step further.

Elena pushed back the tantalizing effect his eyes had on him as she said, "Jenna, I'll call you tonight, OK?"

"Ok," she said, chipper. "You kids have fun."

"_You kids have fun_?" Elena said, shooting Damon a little glare. "You did more than just make her agree to this move, didn't you?"

Damon didn't say anything. Instead, he guided her to his car, his hand pressing down on the nape of her back. How could that one simple touch send her whole body into a spiral of shivers and chills?

She was glad when he slammed the car door behind her and put some distance between them, giving her body time to calm down, to relax. Not enough time, though. Not in the least. Within two seconds, he sat down beside her and then it was there. Unmistakable. Undeniable.

The sudden thickness of the air.

The electricity crackling between them.

The anticipation of her body.

Her every muscle was tense. Her every nerve was on edge. And at once, she knew that even the slightest touch or the tiniest of glimpses into his blue eyes would make her lose the little control she still had over herself. So she kept her hands on her lap, kept her eyes on the road. After all, she needed to focus. They had a mission. An urgent one. But for the life of her, she couldn't actually remember what that mission was.

Damon grabbed the wheel tighter, driving his car way over the speed limit. But he didn't care. He needed to distract himself, needed to think of anything else but the girl beside him, the girl whose skirt looked even shorter now that she sat down. Seeing that dark, red fabric caress her thighs…

His foot pressed down on the gas even more as he cursed himself for his own stupidity. What a great idea it had been to leave her only a short, mouthwatering skirt to replace the jeans he'd broken. And an even better idea to rip her bra and leave her none to replace it with. I mean, it wasn't enough that his entire being already yearned for her in an excruciating way when she was fully dressed, no, he had to add fuel to the fire and make her parade around showing off those perfect, smooth legs and creamy, pink breasts. Breasts that had been in his mouth only minutes ago.

The wheel squealed underneath his iron grip as his mind travelled back to her bedroom, to her tongue, to her lips.

_Stop,_ he thought, his eyes hard on the road. _There'll be time for that later._

_Later? _The animal inside him growled. _I fucking want her now! Take her now!_

"Where are we going?"

_Goddamn, that voice…_

"I don't know," he rumbled, shifting gears.

Elena frowned and made the mistake of taking her eyes of the road and focusing them on _him_. Why did he have to be so damned sexy? That strong jawline, those dark stubbles, his strong, big hands clutching the wheel. Everything about the man just screamed sex. And so did everything inside of her. She never wanted him as much as she wanted him in that moment. She didn't know why. All she knew is that she _pulsed_. Everywhere.

_Stop_, she thought, her nails digging into her skirt. _There's no time for this now._

_Why not?_ Her mind whined as she swallowed hard.

"Maybe we should check with Bonnie," Elena whispered, her voice a pitch higher than usual, partially because he was _way_ too close and smelling _way _too good and partially because seeing Bonnie wasn't something she felt incredibly excited about.

"Are you up for that?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

Elena shrugged, watching the world outside speed past. Off course she wasn't up for that. Bonnie had been her best friend, her confidant, the one she'd relied on after her parents when things got really dark. And now, just the thought of seeing her made her sick.

"I just don't get it, you know," Elena whispered as thunderclouds gathered above them. "How she could've betrayed me the way she did."

In a swift move, Damon drove the car of the road, parking between the dark trees of the woods. Elena needed a moment and he could tell. He could tell she needed to gather her thoughts before seeing Bonnie again. He could tell she needed to talk about what had happened, something she hadn't done before. They'd been so caught up in each other that they really hadn't talked much and when Damon had told her about how he'd tried to convince Bonnie to help him, Elena had subtly changed the subject. With her mouth. With her tongue. With her hips.

Damon swallowed hard as the memories of last night came flooding back and made his dick grow even harder. Painfully hard.

"I know I have every right to hate her," Elena said as the first raindrops trickled down on the windshield. "But it's just hard, you know."

Oh, he knew. It was really, really hard.

_She needs emotional support, dick,_ the rational part of his brain screamed at him.

The primal part screamed something else entirely, reminded him that there was a way of making her forget about the pain, even just for a little while. If he just buried himself inside of her, if he just made her feel how much love there still was in her life…

Damon was acting strange. Stranger than usual. He'd hardly spoken since they'd left her house and now, he was glaring at the trees in front of him, his hands turning pale from the tight grip he had on the wheel, his chest heaving up and down so fast that if he'd been human, Elena would've thought he was hyperventilating. And still, all she could think about was how damned hot he looked.

_What's wrong with you! _her mind hissed. _Don't you see something's wrong with him! Keep it in your pants!_

"Damon?" she sang, worried. "Are you OK?"

He nodded tightly, never looking at her, never releasing the wheel.

Before thinking it through, she reached out for him, softly running her fingers over his cheek. She knew it had been a bad move the second she'd touched his skin. He felt so good, so right, so warm.

Moaning softly, her fingers travelled down, to the strand of hair in the back of his neck, the strand of hair she'd played with in between their lovemaking last night, the strand of hair she'd pulled on teasingly whenever she was up for the next round.

She swallowed back the lump of desire the memory conjured up and pulled her fingers back, away from him before she lost it completely. However, her touch had barely left his skin or he grabbed her wrist, his eyes still glued to the road, but his chest suddenly still, calm.

_Her_ chest however was in full blown heaving. Her breath shallow. Her heart out of control. The wet space between her thighs throbbing so hard she was sure he could hear.

The grip on her wrist tightened, but she didn't try to pull away. Why wasn't she pulling away? Couldn't she tell was about to lose all control? Couldn't she tell he was about to let the animal out?

His eyebrows pulled together, he looked at her, trying to figure out how much damaged he'd done to her. How badly had he scared her? How badly did she want to run? Could he still make amends for his roughness? He should probably start with letting go of her wrist. Or at least loosen his grip. But those big, brown eyes made it impossible to let go, made it impossible to think. His eyes dropped to her chest. She was out of breath. But it wasn't fear. Fear wouldn't make her nipples hard. Fear wouldn't produce the smell of arousal that was now heavy in the air.

His eyes slid back up, piercing hers in a way she recognized all too well. And then she couldn't take it anymore. She just…_couldn't._

She attacked at the same time he did, their lips meeting hallway. It wasn't one of their tender kisses. Not at all. They were both driven by suck a raw, animalistic lust that neither of them even considered taking it slow. Somehow, Elena squirmed herself between Damon and the wheel, straddling him, her tongue fighting with his for dominance, neither of them giving in, holding back.

Damon's hands grabbed her shirt on either side and pulled. Elena could hear the buttons hitting the chair, the window, the floor, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything at that point. Nothing but how close he was, how good he felt, how sensual it felt to have her bare breast rub against his black shirt. Something inside her knotted together as her nipples shaved against him. Could someone come just from kissing? Then again, Damon Salvatore didn't _just_ kiss. Damon Salvatore didn't _just _do anything.

Moaning into his mouth, Elena reached between them and unbuttoned his pants just enough to pull out his cock. He was so hard, so ready.

Her hand stroked him, but before she could do it again, he pulled on her hair, tipping her head back.

"No teasing," he growled, his eyes angry on hers. "Put me inside of you. Now."

More than willing, she slammed her lips down on his again, slowly easing the tip of him inside of her.

"Oooooh!" she screamed, letting her body slide down his length. "God, Damon!"

Damon threw his head back, a loud growl emanating from his chest. She could tell he was already close. So was she. And no matter how much she wanted this to last forever, her body would never let it. Instinctively, she felt her hips grind over him at the pace it needed, the pace it demanded. She needed to come. She wouldn't last much longer.

Whimpering, her hands clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin, holding on as she rode herself to release.

"That's it, Elena," Damon rumbled in a hoarse voice as dark veins crept around his eyes. "Fuck me. Fuck yourself. Make us come."

Her hips bucked faster. Her knees spread even more, drawing him in deeper, harder.

"Fuck, Elena!" he bellowed, his fangs popping out. "I'm going to fucking come inside of you so hard!"

Elena wanted to pick up the pace even more, but her body was so weak with desire, she couldn't make it go faster, harder.

"Damon−" she whimpered, casting him a desperate look.

He understood her without words. At once, Damon grasped the wheel and in one smooth move, he pushed Elena back against it, his hips raising from the seat so he crouched over her.

"Is this what you want?" he rumbled in her ear as he pumped into her at a speed no human could match.

He got his answer when she screamed his name, her walls tightening around him, milking him to his own orgasm.

Breathing heavily, he sat back, pulling Elena with him in his lap, his cock still inside of her.

"That was−" Damon began, trailing off, not sure how to describe what'd just happened.

"I know." Elena agreed, wiping the little beads of sweat from her chest. "It really was."

"Let's never spend this much time out of the house again."

She smiled wickedly, kissing the corner of his lips when she whispered, "But there are so many interesting places to do it in. I think we just proved that."

Damon laughed, a sound that never failed to warm Elena's heart.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" she sang, placing her head in the crook of his neck.

His hands trailed up and down her spine, heating up her skin again. "Off course."

Elena smiled, but then something occurred to her, something that should've occurred to her much sooner. But the truth is, she'd never really thought about it. Not when she was with Stefan. Not until that perfect moment in his arms, listening to the rain falling on the roof.

A little afraid, Elena swallowed hard and whispered, "Always?"

"Off course, sweetn−" the words died on his lips when he understood the gravity of what she was asking. Of what she was _really_ asking.

Gently, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit up straight so he could look her in the eye.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked, watching her closely.

She nodded, her face serious.

"And are you sure you're ready for this conversation? Now?"

He could hear her heart speed up, then. And when he saw the faintest flicker of doubt in her eyes, he said, "We shouldn't talk about this here."

"No," she said in a strong voice when he placed her hands on her hips, intending to put her back in her seat. She couldn't just leave it like that. She couldn't just let him think she doubted him.

"Elena," he said, his eyes everywhere but on hers. "We've only been together since last night, I understand if you need more time−"

"Stop it," she said, cupping his face and forcing his eyes to hers. "I've been in love with you forever. And I want to be with you. Forever."

"But?"

"But I think we probably shouldn't be taking about this until we've dealt with Hertz."

He frowned at that. "Why? It would be brilliant! You'd be much stronger, faster and−"

Elena was off his lap before he could stop her, leaning back in her seat, clutching her ripped shirt closed.

"Elena, Love, what−"

"It's nothing," she said, her voice broken. "Just drive."

_Is she crying? _

His heart aching, he reached out for her chin and made her face him again. She _was _crying.

"What did I say?" he asked, hitting himself over the head. "What's wrong, Elena?"

"Nothing," she said, wiping the tears from her cheek. "You're right. It would be great if I was a vampire. You wouldn't have to look after frail, clumsy, human Elena anymore. I mean, Hertz wouldn't even be an issue anymore and−"

"No!" he barked, understanding his own stupidity. "No, Love! That's not why I want you to become a vampire! It has nothing to do with Hertz!"

"I would understand if it was, I mean, you−"

"No," he said again, his thumb caressing her jaw. "No, Love. The only reason I would want you to give up your mortality is because I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. Don't you see? You are everything to me. _Everything_."

More tears trickled down, but now for a whole different reason. She could see the sincerity on his eyes, could see he meant it, could see exactly how much he loved her.

"Do you believe me?" he asked, his voice desperate.

Elena nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. "Yes."

"Good," he said, smiling. "But just to make it very clear, we won't discuss this until Hertz is out of the picture, alright?"

She nodded again as he zipped up his pants.

"Besides," he said when he started the engine. "Frail, clumsy, human Elena almost broke my car. If Hertz knows what's good for him, I wouldn't underestimate her."

* * *

"I'm sorry dear, but I will _never_ invite a Salvatore inside of my home."

Elena tried to stay calm. After all, Bonnie's grandmother had every right not to trust the Salvatores. Still, she couldn't help but feel annoyed. Only hours ago, Damon and Elena had been caught up in their own little love bubble, kissing, making love, forgetting about the world outside.

And then, the first time they'd faced that world together, as a couple, Damon had been treated like a monster! They hadn't even given him a chance! How could people be so close-minded? She hated it! And more than that, she hated how Damon acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. No one should ever get used to being treated like crap. Especially not someone she loved.

"OK," Elena said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Could you just tell me if Bonnie's home?"

"She's in her room."

"Can I go up and talk to her? Alone?"

She nodded, gesturing for her to come inside.

"I'll be right back," Elena said, sweetly tugging at Damon's shirt.

"OK, Love," he sang, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Be careful, Damon," Elena whispered in his ear before he could pull away. "She's a Bennett-witch."

He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Don't worry about me."

"Easier said than done," she mumbled, going against all of her instincts and letting go of him.

As Elena made her way to Bonnie's bedroom, memories of her childhood came crawling to the surface. How many nights had she spend with Bonnie, staying up way after bedtime, roaming through her house, searching for a hidden treasure or running from a boogey man?

A feeling of sadness overwhelmed her as she stood in Bonnie's doorframe, watching her former friend sit on her bed, legs crossed, her IPod shoved in her ears. They had a past together. A wonderful past. And now…

_And now. Now what?_

"Elena?" The witch stood up, popping her ear buds out, her mouth hanging open. "You're here."

"Yeah."

"Is there something you need?" Bonnie asked hesitantly, wringing her hands. "I mean , not that you aren't always welcome. Off course you are. Even if you just want to hang out−"

"Do you know where Stefan is?" Elena cut her off, feeling the anger creep inside her chest. How could she think she was there to _hang out_? After what she'd done! Did she really not realize how much she'd hurt her?

"I tried to call."

Elena bit the inside of her cheek as she watched Bonnie cast her a smile. Was she seriously trying to act like nothing had changed? Like they were still friends?

"If you don't know where he is−"

"It went straight to voicemail every time. I guess your battery died."

"No," Elena hissed. "I blocked your number."

"You−" Bonnie swallowed hard, her façade slowly crumbling as her eyes watered up. "You blocked my number?"

"Look," Elena snapped. "I can't have this conversation right now. I'm in a hurry. Do you or do you not know where Stefan is?"

Bonnie just stared at her, her bottom lip starting to tremble. Her pitiful behavior only enraged Elena more. How dared she act like she was the victim! Like she was the one in pain! How dared she make _her_ feel guilty!

"You know what," Elena sneered, unable to stand the sight of her any longer. "Never mind. I'll find him myself."

Elena turned away from her, but just when she was about to walk out, Bonnie whispered something that made her stop in her tracks.

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"The right thing?" Elena snarled, her hands balling up in fists. "When exactly did you think you were doing the right thing? When you and Stefan manipulate me? When you lied to me? When you almost let Stefan rape me? "

"I didn't know that you and Stefan were over! I thought−"

"Oh, save it!" Elena yelled, facing Bonnie again. "Damon told me he came to your house! He told you everything you needed to know!"

"I didn't believe him! He's Damon Salvatore!"

"Exactly!" Elena screamed. "He's _Damon Salvatore_!"

A tear trickled down Bonnie's cheek as Elena took a few steps closer and snarled, "Look me in the eye and tell me that you didn't know I was in love with him. Tell me you didn't know before even I did."

Bonnie opened her mouth, but as she stared into Elena's eyes, the words wouldn't come. Because she'd known. She'd known ever since she'd seen them together in The Grill. She'd known when she'd watched her dance with him on her birthday party. And she'd known Damon felt the same when they'd faced Hertz together. So, she could lie. But that would only add to the list of things she was ashamed of. So instead, she dropped her eyes to the floor and whispered,

"I'm sorry."

"So when he told you I'd dumped Stefan for him, you should've at least given him the benefit of the doubt! You should've looked into it!"

"I know! I−"

"What you shouldn't have done was just ignore him and throw me at Stefan like some piece of meat!"

"I never meant to hurt you!"

"Well, you did! You tried to change me into the girl you want me to be! Like the real me wasn't good enough or _wrong_ in some way! You wanted sweet, little, innocent Elena with the perfect grades and perfect boyfriend, who never gets angry, never speaks up, never strays from the path! Because God forbid if she actually found happiness with a man the entire town doesn't approve off first! God forbid if she actually fell in love!"

Tears trickled down Bonnie's cheeks as she whimpered, "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

Elena shrugged. "There's nothing you can say, Bonnie. You and I have been friends since we were in diapers and you couldn't even take five minutes to at least examine the possibility of me and Damon before you left me in a bedroom with Stefan!"

"I _really_ wish I could go back and change−"

"Well, you can't, Bonnie," Elena sighed. "I wish you could, but you just…_can't_."

"Elena, please, I'll do anything. Just give me another−"

"Do you know where Stefan is or not?" Elena interrupted her.

Bonnie shook her head, slowly. "No."

"OK," Elena said, turning away from her.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

Elena felt the sadness creep through the anger again. "I don't know. Right now, I'm thinking _no_."

"But maybe in the future?"

Elena briefly closed her eyes, her insides knotting together. "I don't know, Bonnie. I can't trust you and until that changes, I can't even imagine a future with you in it."

Elena heard sobs coming from behind her, but instead of turning around and comforting her friend like she used to do, she walked away, earning a stern look from Bonnie's gran.

"Are you OK?" Damon asked when she came outside again.

When she noticed the worried look on his face, she mumbled, "You heard."

"Everything."

"Do you think I was too harsh?" Elena asked when Damon pulled out of the Bennett's driveway.

"No. I just don't like seeing you so sad."

"I'm not sad," she said, putting her hand over his on the wheel.

"Sure you are," he rumbled, his gaze sweetly resting on her face. "You lost someone you loved."

Elena swallowed hard, leaning back in the seat. "Yeah, well, that's part of life, right? You win some, you lose some. And considering I won _you_, I'll get over the loss."

"Anything I can do?"

She smiled softly, staring into his blue depths when she sang, "You're already doing it."

He smiled back, his thumb running over the back of her hand. "So, where to now?"

"Only one place I can think of. The Grill."

"To The Grill it is," Damon said, speeding up. "Probably a good thing, too. If I have to deal with my baby brother I could use a drink."

Elena nodded. He wasn't the only one.

* * *

**What did you think? PLEASE, let me know! XXX LustAndLove**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Sorry I disappeared on you, guys, but thanks to your wonderful comments, I've started working on my book again! You guys inspire me, give me confidence, to try creating my own stuff. **

**Anyway, here's a new chapter! I hope I haven't lost my touch and you like it! Please let me know! x**

* * *

"Leave the bottle."

Stefan could see Matt was reluctant to do as he'd asked, but since he had compelled him to follow his orders and not ask questions, he did it anyway.

As Stefan poured himself a full glass of scotch, he tried to push away the pang of guilt that knotted his stomach. He'd never compelled any of his friends, any of Elena's friends, but things had changed. So many things.

For one, the last time he'd been in The Grill, he'd been with Elena. Dancing. Kissing. Laughing. There had been no sadness, no pain, no Damon. Elena had been his.

But not really.

'Cause even though Elena hadn't remember her past with Damon, he'd never been able to forget it. The way Damon had fought to save her from Hertz, the way he hadn't given up on her when everyone else had. And most of all, the way he'd looked at her whenever she walked into a room. He'd known his brother loved her. And what was more, he'd known Elena loved him back.

But what was he supposed to do? Push her away? She didn't remember Damon. All she remembered was him. So, even though he knew it was wrong, a spark of hope had flared up inside of him. All of a sudden, the future had been bright again. He'd seen a life with her, a life filled with love and joy, a life without his brother.

But that didn't change the fact that it had been wrong. He knew that. He knew she had every right to hate him. He knew he'd lost her forever.

Pushing away the memories of Elena, he gulped down his drink. It was when he filled the glass to the rim again, that he smelled it. Gnarling, he slammed the bottle down on the bar, keeping his eyes glued to his scotch.

"Go away, Damon," he snarled when his smell was right behind him.

There was a long pause. His scent didn't fade, though. He was still there.

"I mean it, Damon."

"Uhm−"

Her voice made him turn faster than he should in public. She looked beautiful. Radiant. Although, he could tell she hadn't slept much. There were little bags under her big, brown eyes.

"Elena," he said, shocked. "Hi."

"Hi."

He started to smile, but then he realized something. Something that made his blood boil.

"You smell like him." His voice was as hard and angry as his eyes.

"What?"

"You smell like him," he repeated, biting out every word. "_Reek_ of him, actually!"

He hadn't meant to make that sound the way it did. Accusingly. But as a vampire, all of his emotions were heightened, which meant a little flicker of jealousy turned into a hurricane inside of him that destroyed every other rational thought.

"He's with me," she hissed, clearly picking up on his accusation. "He's waiting outside."

"Is he afraid to come in and face me?" He snarled.

"No!" she snarled right back. "It's because he wouldn't be able to stay calm around you! And why would _he_ be afraid? _He_ didn't do anything wrong."

"He stole my girlfriend!"

"He didn't steal me! I chose to be with him! Damn it, Stefan, I−" she trailed off, shaking her head, her eyes closed. "I can't talk about this. Not now. Not here."

Stefan nodded, reluctantly, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. "OK, so why _are_ you here?"

Elena swallowed hard, sitting down. "Do you remember Hertz?"

How could he forget?

"Yes," he said, disturbed by the turn of the conversation.

"He might be−"

She trailed off again, her eyes dropping to her suddenly wringing hands.

"He might be _what_?" Stefan asked when it didn't look like she was going to finish her sentence.

"−coming after me," she whispered.

"What?" he growled, straightening up in his seat.

"Hertz's wife was kidnapped or killed," she explained.

"So?"

"So he'll probably be coming for me now."

"Why you?"

"Because I'm the reason she's gone. Whoever employed Hertz to kill me, did something to his wife as punishment for failing. So, he's probably coming to kill me and get his wife back or kill me to avenge her. Either way, he's coming."

Stefan could see the fear in her eyes, a fear she was trying her very best to hide. That's Elena for you, always trying to act tough.

"What do you need?" he asked, his voice softer.

He could hear her heart speed up a little when she said, "I need you to sign over the Boarding House to me."

There was a long silence during which he waited for the punch line. 'Cause it must've been a joke. There's no way she'd just asked him to−

"Sign over the house to you?"

"Yes."

And then, even though he did his very best not to, he did something that clearly pissed her off.

He laughed.

Loudly.

"Are you almost done?" Elena hissed after a long minute.

Stefan broke off his snickers, frowning. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yes."

"Why would you need my house?"

"I can't go home, because Hertz would rip through Jenna and Jeremy to get to me."

"OK and what does that have to do with−"comprehension dawned on his face. "Damon."

"He wants me to stay by his side until Hertz is dealt with and since your house is packed with weapons and a lot harder to destroy−"

"−you two want to make it your love nest?"

Elena took a deep breath before she said, "Right now, the house is owned by vampires, so everyone−or everything−can enter freely. If the house is mine, that's not the case. It's just a piece of paper. It's still your house. Yours and Damon's. I'll invite you both in as soon as the official ownership changes hands."

"My house?" he said, letting it sink in.

"I know it's a lot to ask. And to be honest, I hate asking anything of you after what happened, but I don't have a choice. Damon's on a warpath and if he goes after Hertz, he'll get himself killed and−" Her voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes.

"And what?"

"And I can't lose him," she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

That jealousy raged to life again inside of his chest. She couldn't have hurt him more if she'd driven a stake through his heart.

"Well, I can," he hissed. "I have no problem with it, actually."

Elena's eyes turned hard again. "What?"

"If he wants to get himself killed, let him. I don't care."

Her hands balled in fists by her side, Elena jumped up, glaring at him. "And what about me, huh? Would you care if _I_ get killed? Or have you really become a cold, evil bastard?"

"I thought you liked cold, evil bastards?"

"You know what, forget it," she hissed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I even asked. I just thought, for one second, that somewhere deep down you were still the man I once loved. Clearly, I was wrong."

_She's leaving! Stop her, you idiot! Talk to her! _

He grabbed her, locking his fingers around her wrist. "Elena, wait!"

"Let go of me," she snapped.

"Just wait," Stefan begged, holding onto her tightly. Too tightly. "I'm sorry, OK?"

"No, it's not OK at all!" She tried to tug herself free, but he held on, his grip turning painful. "Let go of me, Stefan."

"Look, I'm sorry I'm an ass, but I love you. I just love you and you could be happy with me!"

"Happy with you? How could I possibly be happy with you? How could I possibly trust you after what you did!"

"You cheated on me!"

"And I told you! As soon as I realized I was in love with him, I told you!"

Stefan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Elena said, "And I know that that doesn't excuse it! I know that nothing should've happened before I broke up with you, but I fell in love! And you knew that! You knew I loved him! And you knew he loved me! And you still used my amnesia to take advantage of me!"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, Elena," he said, his voice soft. "I−"

"But you did! Tell me, what would've happened if I hadn't remembered that night?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"Elena, I−"

"Would you have slept with me?"

"I−"

"Yes or no?"

Stefan's eyes dropped, shame radiating of him. He would've. He knew.

"That's what I thought," she hissed. "You know there's a word for that, right? Rape!"

"He will hurt you, Elena!"

"_You _are hurting me!" she screamed, feeling his nails digging into her skin. "Let go of me, Stefan! Let−"

In the space of one second, everything changed. One moment, Stefan was staring into her brown eyes and the next, he was pinned back against the bar, a hand wrapped around his throat. He tried to get free, but Damon was too strong, too angry, too dangerous.

"Damon," Elena whispered, resting her hand on his back. "Sweetheart, calm down."

"Touch her again−" Damon hissed through clenched teeth.

"He won't, Damon," Elena whispered even softer, tugging at the strand of hair in his neck. "Please, let go. He's your brother."

"Like I care!"

"You do, Love," she said, making Stefan's stomach clutch even more. "You care. For him. For me." Stefan saw his face relax a little, his grip weakening the slightest bit. She was calming him down, something Stefan had never been able to do.

"Please," Elena continued. "Let go. For me."

There was a long minute during which Stefan knew exactly two things could happen: either Damon would literally rip his head off or he'd listen to Elena. Much to his relief and surprise, he did the latter.

As soon as Damon released him, he headed for Elena, grabbing her waist, pressing her close to him. Stefan saw Elena smile at that, the way she used to smile at him.

"Are you OK?" he heard Damon ask, his blue eyes gazing worriedly into hers.

She nodded as he gently lifted her wrist up to his lips and plastered a little kiss on her bruise.

"How cute," Stefan hissed, sitting back down on the barstool.

Damon tensed, but Elena had already grabbed him tighter, signaling not to let Stefan get to him, not to take the bait.

"You're going to sign those papers," Damon gnarled, a clear threat in his words.

"Am I?" Stefan sang.

"Yeah," Damon snapped, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the forms. "Right now."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kill you. If you're dead, she only needs my signature."

"You won't kill me."

"Yes, I will," he hissed, his face serious. "For her, I will. And you know it."

Stefan's face turned serious too as he took the papers from him. "Is he really coming for her? Is this really not some trick to get rid of me?"

"Stefan, no," Elena jumped in. "I wouldn't do that. I swear."

Stefan just stared at her, trying to see if she was lying.

After a long moment, he finally said, "Do you have a pen?"

Damon pulled one out of his jacket, handing it to him. He signed quickly and slammed the papers against Damon's chest. "There. Congratulations, Elena. You're a home owner."

"Thank you," Elena said, trying to pull off a sincere smile.

"Don't expect a _thank you_ from me," Damon hissed. "After what you did to her, you owed her this."

Stefan didn't say anything. Instead, he pushed past them and disappeared through the door.

"You're too kind, you know that right?" Damon said, his hand rubbing her back. "He deserved a lot worse."

"I know," Elena sighed. "But I can't help but feel for him."

Damon's hand froze on her back, his blue eyes finding hers sadly.

"No, not like that!" Elena exclaimed, kicking herself over the head. "I mean, he still loves me and I chose his brother over him. That must hurt. I can't even imagine what I would do if you ever wanted to be with someone else−"

"That would never happen, Love."

"But if it did, I can't say that I wouldn't do what he did. I would do anything to get you back."

"You wouldn't hurt me like he hurt you. Like he tried to. I know, because I had to make a decision, too and I decided to walk away if it meant making you happy. It killed me, but I did it, because when you love someone, you have to think of them first. And you always think of the ones you love first, Elena. There's not a selfish bone in your body."

"Thank you," she sighed. "Anyway, I could really use that drink now."

"Good idea," Damon said, his lips pulling up. "And I know just where we could sit."

Elena frowned as he lead her away from the bar. It was only when they reached the back of the Grill that she realized where he was taking her.

"Our spot," she sang, smiling as she sat down in the _make out booth_. "Is it sad that our spot is in a bar?"

Damon laughed, something Elena felt he still didn't do enough. "Personally, I think it would be sad if it wasn't."

He sat down beside her, not across from her like the last time. Nothing was like the last time. She was happy now. Content. Complete. And it was all thanks to him.

"So," he said, lifting his arm so there was a crook for her to move into. "White wine spritzer?"

She laughed, fitting her body against his, thinking everything would be alright now. Now that she had him.

She had no idea what was coming.

* * *

**_3 months later_**

"1876!"

Damon smiled at her stubbornness, popping his head out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. They'd been living together for three months now, but Damon Salvatore suspected he would never be able to see her sitting on his bed, legs crossed, wearing only his shirt, without having to stop and stare. How had he gotten so lucky? He'd done nothing in his long life to deserve someone like her and yet, there she was, smiling that smile she reserved just for him, that smile no one else got to see.

"Love," he said, his voice filled with laughter. "I was around back then. Trust me, the Zulu War was fought in 1879."

"Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?"

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his blue eyes sparkle.

"Depends on where my mouth is," he rumbled, his voice getting that husky tone again.

"Damon, no," Elena snickered. "I have to be at school in an hour and I have to cram for the history test that I knew about all weekend, but couldn't study for thanks to your 'private tutoring sessions' or in Damon-speak: spending the weekend in bed tutoring me in areas that have absolutely nothing to do with history."

Damon did that eye-thing he did as he leaned against the doorframe, that thing that made Elena's skin prickle every single time. Even after three months of being with Damon pretty much non-stop, except for when she was in school, being with him still felt new, exciting and every fiber of her being knew that would never end. She would always feel like this when he was around.

"So," she said, scraping her throat, distracting herself from his blue gaze, "1879, you say? Let's check it out."

She started thumbing through the stack of papers in front of her.

"Hold up," Damon rumbled. "What do I get when I win?"

"The satisfaction of knowing you were right."

"I'd like another form of satisfaction, if you don't mind."

Elena shook her head, one of her curls escaping the silver clasp that gathered her hair behind her head. "I mind! School, remember."

"But if you're so sure you're right, you have nothing to worry about," he growled, his lips curling up slightly. "Unless you're not sure. Unless you're willing to concede now and yield to me."

His words had the exact effect he'd hoped they would have. Elena Gilbert was a proud woman.

Her eyes blazing, she started rummaging through the papers. "You're on! I'm right and I know it! So, I'll take your bet! But when I prove you're wrong, I'll be rubbing this in your face until−"

She trailed off, her gaze glued to her history notes.

"What is it, Love?" Damon sang, faking worry. "Is something wrong?"

Elena looked up again, smiling, shoving the paper she was staring at in the middle of the pile of notes.

"No," she said, shrugging. "I was just thinking this is ridiculous. We love each other. We shouldn't keep playing these stupid games to prove that−"

"What was on the paper, Elena?"

Damon knew, off course.

She'd seen the right date.

1879. Like he'd said.

He also knew she'd never admit it.

"What paper?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "What paper? Really, Elena."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

_Stubborn and proud. I'm going to have my hands full with her. And I'm going to love every second of it._

"Love," Damon rumbled. "Show me−"

He trailed off when she kneeled down on the edge of the bed, her brown eyes glistening. He knew that look. He loved that look. And she knew it.

Slowly, her fingers slid over the buttons of her shirt. Teasingly slow.

"You're trying to distract me," Damon growled, his eyes dropping to her bare legs.

Elena kept quiet, popping the first button.

"It won't work," he rumbled, feeling by the tightness in his pants just how big a lie that was.

Second button. He could see the little freckle right underneath her collarbone, the freckle he'd kissed, licked so many times.

"I'm not that easy."

Third button. The shirt fell open, giving him a delectable view of the valley between her breasts.

"I won't−"

She wiggled her shoulders, making the black fabric slide of them, slide down to her knees, leaving her naked. On his bed.

Damon didn't even realize he'd moved until her lips molded against his. That happened a lot around her. The animal tended to take over when it came to Elena. Luckily, the animal loved her as much as he did.

Elena broke the kiss to slowly suckle his ear, a move she knew would drive him crazy.

"Your hair," he gnarled, his voice vibrating. "Let it down."

She listened without hesitation, removing the clasp, letting her hair fall in waves over her bare shoulders. Growling a deep, primal growl, Damon buried his nose in her brown silk, breathing her in.

"You're terrible," Damon growled in her curls, feeling her fingers play with the strand of hair in his neck. "You know that, right?"

"I learned from the best."

He grabbed her waist at that, throwing her back on the bed like she was a rag doll.

As she watched Damon kneel down on the matrass, moving closer and closer to her, she knew she shouldn't have started this game. She should've just told him he was right about the Zulu War, gotten dressed and left for school, but her stupid pride hadn't let her. And now, her body wouldn't let her. Even after two days in bed with him, she still couldn't get enough. Feeling him so close, so warm, made everything else vanish from her world. There was just him. And she wanted him. Always.

"On your knees," Damon ordered, his now black eyes on hers.

She obeyed, willingly, turning her back on him, clutching the headboard. Even though he wasn't touching her, she could already feel his influence on her, feel her juices pool between her folds. She moaned, her mind go into that Damon-frenzy that she loved so much.

"Spread your legs."

He was right behind her now. She could tell by his voice, by the way his weight dented the matrass, by the way she started to tremble. She did what he'd demanded.

"Wider."

Her skin was set on fire at his tone, her legs spreading almost by themselves. Her body knew what was coming and welcomed it.

His warm hands grabbed her hips as he positioned himself behind her, the tip of him throbbing against her wet center. His hands moved to her breasts as she felt his hard abs on her back, felt his breath against her neck.

"It was 1879, wasn't it?" Damon growled, in her ear.

"Does it matter?" Elena moaned in a thick voice.

"No." He pushed inside of her, making her scream out at the sudden invasion. He was so big, touching every inch of her insides, filling her completely.

"Oh, God!" Elena screamed, her nails digging into the wooden headboard. "Yeeess!"

"You like me taking you from behind, don't you."

It wasn't a question, but she answered honestly, "I like you every which way."

She felt him slipping out of her, but before she could protest, he pushed back in, making her scream out again. He repeated that torture, in-out-in-out, until she no longer had the strength to hold on to the bed. Her arms went limp, but Damon had the solution for that.

Kneading her breast harder, he pushed her up, holding her tightly against his sweaty chest, never slowing down as he drove her to the brink of release.

"No one else could ever fuck you like this, Elena," he growled in her ear, riding her even harder. "No one."

"Damon−" she whimpered.

"No one!"

Elena's head fell back on his shoulder as his fingers slid down to her sex and found her clit.

"Only I can make you come the way you need to, the way you yearn to!"

His thumb rubbing her clit made it almost impossible to speak, but she needed to say this, she needed to reassure him. Reassure Damon Salvatore, the vampire God, that she, Elena Gilbert, a human, clumsy girl, would never leave him. The world was upside down.

"Damon," she breathed, turning her head so she could look him in the eye as he rode her faster, deeper. "I don't want anyone else. Ever. I want you. Just y−"

His fangs sunk into her neck, cutting her off, making her tremble uncontrollably, coming all over him.

"I will never get enough of you," Damon growled as they collapsed into a pile of sweat and satisfaction.

Elena laughed, laying down on top of his chest. "I know the feeling."

He smiled, wiping a strand of hair from her cheek. He loved seeing her like this. Satisfied. Well−fucked. "What about school?"

Elena bit her lips, briefly pressing her forehead against his chest to hide her face. "I guess we had car trouble and had to walk all the way there, which gives us until second period if you use that vampire-thing off yours."

Grinning, he took her hand in his and moved it to the part of him that was already swollen again. "This thing?"

Elena snickered. "No, the speed thing!"

"Wait," Damon rumbled, tracing her lips with his thumb. "Does that mean there's time for a shower?"

"No, Damon! There's no time for a−"

He kissed her, his tongue slowly caressing hers, making goose bumps spread all over her body.

"Maybe if we push it to third period−"

Before she could blink, Damon had swooped her up in his arms and was carrying her to the bathroom.

* * *

"Lunchtime," Elena laughed as she walked up to the school, Damon's hand in hers. "It's freaking lunchtime."

"So, basically, we have another hour to−"

"Shut up," Elena snickered, slapping his chest. "No!

Damon smiled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I'll talk to Alaric about the test."

Alaric Saltzman had come into their lives only two months ago, but in that time, he'd somehow become Damon's friend. His only friend. And Elena could only be happy about that. Everyone needs friends.

Her heart ached as she overlooked the crowd outside the school building, talking, laughing, eating. She used to be a part of that crowd, with Bonnie and Caroline, but not anymore. Caroline had chosen to stand by Bonnie−which was understandable since when she turned into a vampire a month ago, she'd remembered everything Damon had done to her when he'd first arrived in town−but it had left Elena friendless.

By choice.

She could go to Bonnie at any time, have a girls night, have fun, but even after three months, she couldn't deal with Bonnie's betrayal and she certainly wouldn't be able to deal with whatever smack was inevitably going to come pouring out of her mouth about Damon.

"You could talk to them, you know," Damon whispered, curling an arm around her waist. "I wouldn't mind."

Elena just squeezed his hand.

"You're picking me up after school?"

"Don't I always?"

"Always," she sang, running her fingers over the five o'clock shadow that darkened his jaw. "See you in a little while."

She stood on her tiptoes so she could give him a quick peck. Or that was the plan anyway. When she wanted to pull back from his lips, he hooked his fingers in her jacket and pressed her back to him, deepening the kiss, his tongue twirling with hers, his hand sweetly cupping her cheek.

"What was that for?" Elena whispered as she crashed back to earth.

"I'll be without you for hours," he growled, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Be happy that's all I did."

"Happy isn't the right word."

His eyes heated up again.

"And on that note," she said, her voice growing thicker. "It's time for me to go. Be good."

"Always," he said, squeezing her hand before letting go of it.

As soon as Damon was out of sight, Elena's smile faded. She hated lying to him, but she couldn't tell him about what she was up to. Not yet. Not until she knew for sure there was something to worry about. Damon already worried enough as it was.

She spotted the boy she needed almost immediately.

"Hey, Matt," Elena sang, reaching the football player.

Matt frowned, which wasn't surprising since Elena had been living in a Damon-bubble for three months now and had hardly spoken to him.

"Hey, El," he said, smiling. "How are you?"

"Good. Fine."

"And Damon? Stefan?"

Elena frowned. There had been no judgment in his voice, no underlying anger or detest. It was a genuine question.

"Damon's good, too. Stefan moved out when I moved in. The last we heard he was in Italy."

"Italy? Nice."

"I guess so. Listen, I need to ask you something."

"Sure, ask away."

"Can I borrow your car for a few hours?"

Matt frowned. "You're skipping class?"

"I need to run an errant."

"Damon wouldn't let you borrow _his_ car?"

"I don't want him to know where I'm going."

Matt's frown deepened.

"It's a surprise," she added, lying.

"OK," Matt said, hesitantly. "Just make sure you get it back here in time."

"I'll even fill up the tank. Thank you, Matt."

He smiled, handing her the keys.

"They miss you, you know," Matt said as Elena was about to turn away. "Bonnie and Caroline."

Elena froze, sighing.

"I don't know what they did, but whatever it was, can't you work it out?"

"Thanks for the car, Matt."

She walked away before he could continue. She'd deal with her potential friends later. Right now, she had other things on her mind.

* * *

**What did you think? Please, comment! X LustAndLove**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey! **

**Yes, I know, it's a shorter chapter, but I could either end it here and deliver you a chapter now or wait another week to post something while I made it longer. **

**Plus, this seemed a clean end to fade into chapter 21, so I made the choice to post today. I hope you guys like it and as always, let me know! I love your feedback! **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

The windshield wipers slammed against the rain, trying their best to give Elena a better view on the building in front of her. She'd never been here before and from the looks of it, she hadn't been missing out on much. Why would she want to meet here?

Grabbing the umbrella she knew Matt always kept under his seat, Elena got out, breaking into a run as soon as her feet hit the ground. She was so busy trying to keep dry that she almost missed the sign that read:

_Cipka_

_bar/hostel_

_Privacy guaranteed_

"Hi," Elena said, smiling at the bald man behind the counter. "Can you tell me where the bar is?"

The man frowned, watching her closely for some reason.

"Uhm," Elena's eyes dropped to his nametag. "Bill. The bar?"

His frown deepening, he pointed at the door to her right, a door that opened up to a dark bar. A _really dark bar that made her feel like she'd just done a time jump and landed in the 1800's. There were no windows whatsoever, everything was wooden and the only light came from the candlesticks on the tables and a roaring fireplace._

It was the kind of bar you wouldn't expect to be popular and yet, it was. The place was packed and not with the kind of people you'd expect to hide out in the dark. These people were young, gorgeous.

Without warning, an ominous feeling crept up her spine. Something was wrong here. She could feel it and yet, she couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly. Still, she'd had enough experience with this kind of thing to know she should always trust her gut feeling.

"Elena."

The short-haired brunette sitting at the bar stopped her from turning around and walking out. But she should still go. This was a dumb idea to begin with. Meeting with her behind Damon's back…However, she'd come all the way out here, in the rain. She'd even lied to Damon. That couldn't all have been for nothing. She couldn't turn back now.

"Sorry I'm late, Rose" Elena said, taking the stool beside her. "I got held up in the Boarding House and then I got turned around."

Rose just cast her a smile, but Elena didn't fail to notice the smile didn't reach her eyes. "It's OK."

"Quick question, though," Elena said, lowering her voice to whisper. "This is a vampire-bar, isn't it?"

"I didn't really have another place to meet, Elena. We don't all have the luxury of a daylight-ring. Besides, it's perfectly safe. Cipka is neutral ground. No vampire-human violence allowed. Or possible, for that matter. There's a spell on this place that prevents it."

Rose took a gulp of her drink, her eyes flickering around the room. Was it Elena's imagination or was Rose _nervous_?

"Why am I here, Rose?" Elena asked after a long moment of heavy silence. "What's so important that you couldn't tell me over the phone? And why couldn't I bring Damon?"

Another gulp, emptying the glass.

"Rose?"

"I need another drink," she mumbled, already gesturing towards the bartender. "You?"

"Scotch. Neat."

Rose's lip pulled up in one corner. "I see Damon's rubbing off on you."

"Rose," Elena sighed. "Why am I−"

"Did he ever tell you how we met?"

Elena frowned, shaking her head. "Is that why I'm here?"

"We met in the twenties," Rose continued like Elena hadn't spoken. "By then, I'd already been around for five hundred years," she sniffed, playing with her glass. "Do you have any idea what five hundred years of being completely and utterly alone will do to you?"

"I can't say I do," Elena said, checking her watch. "Listen, Rose, I would really like to make it back to Mystic Falls before school ends. Damon's picking me up and since I didn't tell him I was going to meet you, he'll be worried and more than a little pissed off if I'm not there when the bell rings, so if there's nothing else−"

"The twenties were amazing," she continued in her British accent. "The clothes, the cars, the music, the men, though none of them even came close to Damon."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I met him in a bar," Rose continued, smiling. "No surprise there. I knew what he was the second he walked in with his slicked back hair, black, tailored suit and that ridiculous hat only he could pull off. He was a vision, but that's not what drew me to him. I recognized something in him."

"Loneliness."

Rose's eyes flickered from her glass to Elena. "You really do _know_ him, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Not a lot of people can say that. It took _me_ a few decades."

"I still don't get why I'm here, Rose," Elena said, sipping from her scotch. "Not that I don't enjoy this trip down memory lane, but like I said, Damon doesn't know−"

"We vampires," Rose continued, ignoring her again. "We're not exactly the trusting kind and it doesn't help that in humans' lives, we are mere passengers. We can never stay in one place for too long without raising suspicion, so we can never truly built trust or a meaningful relationship for that matter. Not with a mortal. Not if we don't plan on taking their mortality at one point and that's not something we do lightly. I've never even come close to caring about a human that much. So it's safe to say that friendship with another one of our kind is the most rare and precious thing we can encounter. It's forever. It's real. Living as long as we do, it's amazing to know that there's someone out there who cares for you, who'll notice if you go missing, who you can turn to in times of need."

"You think I'll get in the middle of your friendship with Damon?" Elena asked after another long silence.

Rose finished her glass in one drink, her eyes leaving Elena's.

"I would never do that, Rose. I would never come between you and him."

"You already have."

Elena frowned confused. "What are you talking about? Yes, I admit, we've been a little caught up in each other lately, but if you want to, you can just call him and−"

"I can't lose him, Elena."

"Rose, I would never−"

"He was going to kill him."

In an instant, the air grew dense, threatening. The conversation was no longer light. She was no longer sitting down with a friend. This was serious. This was wrong.

"Rose," Elena whispered. "What did you do?"

"He was going to get you anyway," she mumbled more to herself than to Elena. "At least like this, Damon won't die trying to stop it."

Elena didn't need more than a split second to realize what she was talking about.

"Hertz," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You're going to hand me over to him."

Rose's eyes found her apologetically.

"Rose," Elena croaked, panic crawling up her throat. "Don't do this. He will know it was you. He'll hate you."

"That's the thing about eternity, Elena. Plenty of time for him to get over you and forgive me."

Elena's eyes narrowed, her voice turning into a hiss when she said, "You've never truly loved anyone, have you? He won't get over this. Not over my loss, not over your betrayal. Rose, if you do this, you _will _lose him."

Rose squirmed in her seat, her hands wringing, her eyes everywhere but on Elena.

"Please, Rose. Just let me go. Don't give Hertz what he wants."

Rose shook her head slowly before she whispered. "I already have."

Feeling like someone had just reached in her chest and pulled her heart out, Elena scanned the room. It didn't take her long to spot him. In fact, she didn't understand how he hadn't been the first thing she noticed when she'd entered the room. He stood out, to say the least.

"I'm so sorry, Elena."

Elena knew she should be furious with Rose−and she was−but there was another part of her that understood. After all, how many times had she thought about this day? About the day Hertz would catch up with her? And had she not decided a long time ago that she would turn _herself _over if push came to shove? That she would protect Damon, no matter what?

"Tell Damon−" Elena trailed off, pushing back a flood off tears as his name rolled off her tongue. She was never going to see him again, was she? If she'd known that when she'd said goodbye to him… "Just make sure he doesn't forget how much I loved him. And try to keep him from doing anything foolish. Like get himself killed."

"Elena, you should know I never planned to do this. I wanted to protect you, but Hertz is too strong. I can't fight−"

"Just go, Rose," Elena snapped, getting up from her stool. "Get out of my sight."

* * *

He looked exactly the way she remembered him: slicked back blond hair, muscles that were visible even underneath the black shirt he was wearing and two of the blackest eyes she'd ever seen. He looked exactly as dangerous as Elena knew he was, but she'd be damned if she showed him her fear. If she was going to die, she was going to do it with dignity.

Keeping her face strong, she sat down in the seat opposite to Hertz. She knew she should be going out of her mind by now. She should be panicking, screaming, trying to get away, but instead, a calm had settled over her. There was nothing she could do. Hertz was stronger, stronger than her, stronger than Damon. There was no way out.

"Elena," he sang, raising for a second while she sat down. Nice to know she was going to be killed by a gentleman.

"Hertz," she hissed.

"Please darling, call me Alexander."

Elena just glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're still as beautiful as I remember."

"You mean from the last time you tried to kill me?" she bit out.

He smiled that smile that made chills run up and down her back.

"Glad to see you haven't lost your spunk."

"How could I possibly have lost my spunk?" Elena snarled. "Sure, I was trapped in never ending darkness while I listened to the people I love crying, mourning me, but other than that−"

Another smile. "I can see why Damon is so fond of you."

Anger flared up in Elena's chest, her hands balling up in fists.

"Don't. Talk. About. Him." She spit out through clenched teeth, accentuating every word.

"Fair enough. Sore subject," Hertz said, gesturing towards a waiter. "What are you drinking?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, it's on me."

Elena sniffed. How kind of him.

"You have to taste their bloody Mary's. I love them."

"I find it hard to believe you love anything."

His eyes hardened and for the first time, Elena caught a glimpse of the monster beneath the surface. "I love one thing. And I want it back."

Elena knew what he was talking about.

Or who.

His wife.

So she wasn't dead. She was taken by whoever had ordered Hertz to kill Elena and now he was here to finish the job.

Just like Damon had predicted.

His face popped up in front of her eyes, smiling on his pillow, the morning sun bouncing of his cheekbones.

_Stop! Don't think about him! Not now! You can't break down!_

"And you've decided you want her back _after a full three months_?" Elena asked, hearing her voice break a little. "What? Didn't have any luck with the ladies?"

_Unlikely._

Hertz' eyes narrowed as he leaned over the table. And even though Elena tried not to, she found herself leaning back, away from him.

"Darling, I don't like being forced into things, being told what to do, so I tried finding Abigail on my own," he leaned back again. "Unfortunately, they hid her well."

"So now you're going to finish what you started?"

His jaw twitched. "Not exactly."

Elena's confusion must've been plastered all over her face, because Hertz' smile resurfaced. "The order has changed. I have to bring you in alive."

"Why?"

"Didn't ask," he growled.

Elena's mind worked overtime, trying to take in every piece of information she'd just gotten. She understood the gist of it: she was going to die. She was going to be murdered. Would her family get her body back? Or were they going to dump her somewhere, making it so no one would ever know what had happened?

The panic inside of her reached an all-time high, making it impossible to hide her fear anymore. Her nails dug into her jeans, her heart thumped out of her chest, her breathing became heavy.

Until she realized something.

The spell.

He couldn't actually physically hurt her.

Not here.

Not in Cipka.

Not on neutral ground.

A smile pulling at her lips, she visibly relaxed. He couldn't keep her here.

"This was fun," Elena said, scraping her chair back. "But I'll be going now."

Much to Elena's surprise, Hertz smiled too, making her confidence plummet. Why wasn't he getting angry? Upset? Worried?

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," he said, when Elena got up.

"You can't stop me. The spell on this place prevents that. No vampire-human violence."

"I won't be in this bar forever."

"True. But things have changed since you left, Hertz. I have a witch behind me now. And a werewolf. And _two_ vampires. Not to mention that Rose will probably want to redeem herself, too."

His smile grew wider. "A witch, a werewolf and two vampires, huh? That's interesting, because according to my sources, you haven't talked to Bonnie, Tyler or Caroline in three months."

Elena's stomach turned. "How do you know that?"

"You didn't think I'd just left you alone, did you? I kept taps on you, just like you and Damon did with Rose. That's how I knew that if I wanted to get to you, I had to do it during the day, because I have to give Damon credit, he was doing a good job protecting you. I mean, the only time he let you out of his sight and into the open was when you were in school. You two spend every other moment together, locked up in the Boarding House. Nice move, by the way, signing it over to you. I didn't see that coming."

"My friends will help me," Elena said, hearing the doubt in her own voice. Why had she been so stubborn? Yes, what Bonnie had done was wrong, but deep down, she'd always intended to forgive her. And now, she might never get the chance. She could die without Bonnie and Caroline ever knowing how much she truly loved them.

"They'll forgive me," Elena added. "I'll forgive them. That's how friendship works, not that you'd know anything about that."

"And what about Jeremy?"

Something in the way he'd said her brother's name made the panic rise again. "What about him? I didn't do anything to him. There's no reason for him to forgive me."

"I don't know," Hertz said, shrugging. "After all, you're the reason he's currently chained to a wall."

"What?" she croaked, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Hertz just stared at her, that smile on his lips.

"You're lying. Jeremy's in school."

"Is he?" Hertz sang. "Call the school. Although they'll just tell you that Jeremy didn't show up today. Which is strange, because when you call Jenna, she'll tell you he left as usual, his brown backpack thrown over his shoulder, wearing his new leather jacket and dark jeans."

Elena swallowed hard, slowly shaking her head.

"Off course, you could just go straight to the source and call Jeremy, but I'm afraid he'll be a little−" he reached in his pocket and pulled out the black, scratched up cell phone she recognized all too well. "−tied up."

Numb, she stared at Jeremy's cell, every ounce of fight leaving her body.

He had her brother.

Her baby brother.

"There's a bright side to this," Hertz said, gesturing for her to sit down.

She obeyed, no questions asked, her mind everywhere.

"Not many people get the opportunity to spend their last moments on earth knowing they're their last."

"And I get to spend them with you," Elena mumbled. "Lucky me."

"Actually no," Hertz said. "You're not staying here."

"What?"

"I can't leave this place until the sun goes down and seeing Damon always picks you up after school, he'll know something's wrong when you don't show up. Plus, he and I have a history with this place, so it won't take him long to track us down. I'm stronger, but if Damon brings that same witch he brought last time, there's a small chance he can drag you out of here and into the sunlight before I can stop him. And since we both know he'll choose you over Jeremy, he'll lock you away to protect you and I can't have that. Tonight is my last chance. If I don't bring you in by midnight, my wife's dead. And so is your brother."

He was right. Elena knew. Damon would force her to safety. He wouldn't listen to her pleas to let her go, to let her save her brother. Damon had always made it very clear that he would choose Elena over everyone else, even if she didn't want him to.

"So, this is what's going to happen," Hertz continued. "You're going to go back to school. You're going to catch your last class. You're going to act like nothing has changed and the first chance you get before midnight, you're going to sneak out of the house where I'll be waiting."

Elena nodded, her body feeling weird, numb. She was going to have to lie to Damon, pretend like she wasn't going to die, like she wasn't going to leave him. And there was nothing worse than being the one left behind. Elena knew this first-hand. It was going to destroy him. It was going to destroy her Damon.

"Now," Hertz said. "Listen up, because this is imperative. If I so much as catch a glimpse of Damon when you walk out of that house, I'll kill your brother. I'll kill your aunt. I'll kill Bonnie. I'll kill Damon. I'll have nothing but time to avenge my wife, to see each and every one of them die, slowly, painfully. I'll erase everyone you ever loved from existence, leaving _you_ alive, wishing I'd killed you the first time around."

"And if I do this−" Elena croaked, feeling a tear trickle down her cheek. "You promise to leave them alone?"

"Yes."

"You'll let my brother go? You won't harm Damon or anyone else I love?"

"I give you my word."

She sniffed, more tears trailing down. "Like that means anything."

"It does, Elena," he said, his face serious. "I don't give my word lightly. It's something I value and if I give it, I always keep it."

She wiped away the salty drops that were dripping from her chin, betraying her, showing her weakness. But she didn't care anymore. He had her right where he wanted her and he knew it.

"OK," Elena said, her voice weak. "I'll do it."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"Are you out of your mind?" Damon snarled, a knife clutched in his fist. "You can't!"

"Damon−" Elena pleaded.

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Sweetheart," Elena said, her voice calm, her hand resting on his arm. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal?"

"No," Elena smiled, trying to turn Damon's attention away from the blond he was glaring at. "No big deal."

"She's screwing it up, Elena!" Damon barked. "Tell her to step away from the chili!"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Tell _him_ to stop freaking out like a little girl over some cream."

"Chili is supposed to be sizzling hot, Barbie! You're turning it into soup with beans!"

"Not everyone in the room has Vampire taste buds, Damon," Caroline snapped.

"The girl has a point," Matt jumped in, grabbing another beer from the fridge. "I'd like to be able to taste something after this."

"And you don't want to burn your girl's tongue off," Tyler said, wrapping his arms around Caroline's waist.

Damon relaxed a little, but Elena knew he hated this. After spending most of his life alone, he was still getting used to having this many people around him. He was doing his best, though and Elena loved him for it. After all, when they'd gotten together, she was sure he hadn't counted on having her friends over all the time and yet, he'd never complained. Not once.

"It _would_ be a shame to lose that tongue," Damon gave in, smiling, lifting Elena up until she sat down on the counter. "I love that tongue."

Elena snickered as Damon leaned in and kissed her, his tongue softly caressing hers.

"OK, OK," a warm voice laughed before Damon's side was nudged, causing him to break the kiss. "Not before dinner. We still have to eat."

Damon shot Stefan an fake, annoyed look. "Have I told you how glad I am your back, brother?"

"It's implied," Stefan sang, chopping up another pepper to balance out the cream. "And speaking of implying things: isn't Bonnie coming? She never misses Saturday Cooking Extravaganzas."

"She said she'd be a little late," Elena answered, her fingers still entwined behind Damon's neck. "She had something witchy to do with her Gran."

"Oh," Caroline whispered, stirring the chili. "I'm sure she had something to _do _alright."

Matt, Tyler, Stefan and Damon exchanged a look, their lips pulling up slightly. Elena, however, wasn't amused.

"Shut up, Caroline!" she shrieked, her stomach turning. "He's my brother! My _baby_ brother!"

"Hate to break it to you, but he hasn't been a baby in quite a while," Matt said, taking another gulp from his beer.

"He is to me!"

"OK," Caroline said, lifting the huge pot of chili. "I think we better start eating before Elena blows."

"I don't know," Damon started, his eyes growing a shade darker. "I kinda like it when Elena−"

"Ewwwww!"

"Come on man!"

"Not cool!"

"Shut up!"

After giving her a quick kiss on her blushing cheek, Damon helped the others set the table.

A feeling of pure and utter bliss overwhelmed her as she watched her friends and Damon work together, smiling, joking around. Everything had finally turned out right. The man she loved had been accepted by her friends and vice versa and to everyone's surprise, the two worlds blended together perfectly. Her life was complete now. Perfect. After everything she'd been through, after all the people she'd lost, she could finally see a future again. With her family.

Damon.

Matt.

Caroline.

Tyler.

Stefan.

Bonnie.

Jeremy.

And off course Jenna.

She finally believed she could have it. Have it all.

"Hey, Gilbert," Stefan rumbled, holding up his hands. "Are you coming or what?"

Elena's eyes snapped open, immediately tearing up when she realized it hadn't been real.

That it could never be real.

It was too late.

_Too late…_

Panicking, Elena shot up from she was lying on the couch, the warmth from the fire enveloping her like a blanket. The fact that she hadn't slept all weekend had caught up with her. At the worst time possible.

Her heart racing, her gaze shot to the window. The _dark _window. It was already night. But what time a night?

For the first time, she cursed the fact that Damon didn't have any clocks in the living room. Something about being a vampire didn't require having to keep time. After all, vampires had all the time in the world. Her, on the other hand…

"Damon?" she whispered, her heart thundering.

What if she was too late? What if she'd slept past midnight? What if Hertz had already started killing everyone she loved? What if he'd already killed−

"_**DAMON?**_"

She heard glass shatter somewhere and then, he was in front of her, on his knees, his warm hands cupping her cheek.

"Hey," he rumbled. "What's wrong?"

Elena just stared at him, relief washing over her. He was OK. Damon was OK.

Before she could stop herself, she was hugging him, her nails digging into his black shirt, her nose buried in his neck, breathing him in. God, she was going to miss that smell. She was going to miss _him_. Even though she wasn't sure there was an afterlife, she believed in her soul and her soul would always know something was missing, her soul would forever mourn losing Damon.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he asked, his hands softly running up and down her spine.

_No. I had the most perfect dream. I'm _in_ the nightmare._

"What time is it?"

Damon pulled back, checking his watch. "Eight."

_Four hours? I slept away _four hours_ of my last moments with Damon?_

She could feel a tear slither down her nose, a tear Damon quickly wiped away.

"Love," he whispered, his blue eyes worriedly on hers. "What's wrong? You've been acting strange ever since I picked you up from school. Did something happen?"

_That's an understatement if I ever heard one. _

"No," she said, trying to pull off a sincere smile. "Nothing happened."

Damon knew her too well, though. He could see right through her.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice kind, warm. "Don't do that."

Her smile dropped, giving up on the façade.

"Nothing's wrong," she whispered back. "I promise."

"Then why not tell me what's bothering you?"

"Because you can't fix it."

As soon as it was out of her mouth, she regretted it. She hadn't meant to say that. She couldn't tip him off. He couldn't know about Hertz. Not under any circumstance.

"Are you underestimating me, Gilbert?" Damon sang, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," she sang back, a sincere smile on her lips. "Never."

"Then tell me."

"God," Elena laughed, her fingers hooking into his shirt. "You're like Caroline. Relentless."

Damon shook his head, one side of his lips pulling up in a weak smile. "Love, when are you going to admit that you miss your friends?"

That's what he thought was wrong? That's why he thought she was acting strange? Good.

"Sweetheart, I know I said this before," Damon continued. "But if you're shunning them on my behave, don't. I know you think that if you forgive them, if you forgive Bonnie, you'll somehow choose a side, but that's bull. I know you're on my side. Always. And, more importantly, I'm on yours. Always. Which means, I want what's best for you. And your friends are what's best for you."

"I know."

"So," he said, reaching into her pocket to grab her cellphone. "Call them."

Swallowing hard, she stared at the phone in his hand. The truth is, she wanted nothing more than call them, meet up with them, make everything right before it was too late. But she couldn't. Hertz had made it perfectly clear that she had to act normal and he wouldn't appreciate a sudden reunion with her friends. Not to mention that she was already having trouble hiding her fear from Damon, let alone from all of her friends. They would see something was wrong. They would see she was hiding something. And she couldn't have that.

"I can't call them. Not tonight."

"Elena−"

"Tomorrow," she said, her stomach knotting together. "I'll call them tomorrow. We'll have dinner with them. Make everything alright. OK?"

Damon nodded. "OK, if that's what you want."

Elena smiled again, shaking her head.

"What?" he asked, smiling too.

"I thought you were an ass, you know. For months. When I was still with Stefan."

"I know," he said, his fingers running through her silk hair. "You told me so repeatedly."

"I can't believe I was that blind," she said, letting her own fingers roam over his skin. "I can't believe I didn't love you right from the start."

"If it's any consolation, I thought you were a stuck up goody two-shoes."

She laughed, pinching his side. "That doesn't make me feel better at all!"

"Well, I tried," he sang, scooting onto the couch beside her, moving her so her legs were on his lap. At once, a memory pushed to the front of her mind, the memory of her first, real talk with Damon, the memory of the first time she knew there was more to Damon Salvatore than met the eye.

"This is where I knew you weren't an ass, you know," Elena said, watching the flames dance on his sculpted face. "This is where I knew I was in trouble."

Damon wiggled his eyebrows, his blue eyes sparkling. "Found me irresistible, did you?"

"Actually, yes," she sang, smiling at the memory. "I did."

"You weren't looking too bad, either."

"Wow," Elena snickered. "You're really showering me with compliments today, aren't you."

Growling, Damon grabbed Elena's calves and pulled her on his lap, his lips crashing into hers as soon as she was in his reach. His tongue twirled around hers, tasting her, savoring her. His fingers threaded in her hair, gluing her head in its place, gluing her lips to his. She could feel his hand slipping up her shirt, feel her heart race, feel her body throb all over.

When he finally released her lips, her lunges expanded painfully. She hated that she needed to breath. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to make out with Damon without her human, physical limitation.

And she would never know.

"I wanted to do that as soon as I saw you that night," he breathed, his nose caressing hers. "In that black tank top and those very, very tight hot pants."

Elena ran her fingers over his scruffy jaw, pressing sweet kisses to his throat. "When did you know you wanted more than just sex? When did you know you loved me?"

"When I thought I lost you."

"Which time?" Elena snickered, not picking up on his suddenly heavier mood.

"I heard you call my name and I knew there was a chance I'd be too late," he continued, the muscles in his neck tensing underneath her lips. "I found you under two minutes, but that were the longest minutes of my life. For the first time since I'd turned into a vampire, I found myself praying. Praying for you to be alright. To be alive. Still, I knew there was a chance I would find you dead. So−and I never admitted this to you or myself afterwards−I started thinking up back-up plans."

An eerie feeling creeping up her spine, Elena pulled back, watching him closely as she whispered, "Back-up plans?"

"Pissing off Stefan just enough he'd snap. Pissing off Bonnie. Taking a stroll in the park at noon without my ring. Maybe−"

Elena clasped her hand over his mouth, needing him to stop. Her heart couldn't hear anymore. "Damon, no."

His blue eyes warm, he sweetly peeled her hand from his lips.

"I couldn't do it without you," he said, his fingers tracing her collarbone. "I still can't do it without you−"

"Hey," she whimpered. "No."

He just smiled. But there was nothing even remotely funny about his words. Damon couldn't link his life to hers. He needed to go on if something happened to her, needed to live out the rest of his life, find happiness, make up with his brother, fall in love again. He couldn't just give up if she was gone.

_When _she was gone.

After all, she already had one foot out of the door.

"Damon," she said in a stronger voice. "I'm serious. You can't think like that."

"Love, I lived my entire life for myself. Alone. Angry. It's nice to have someone I'd die for now."

"No," she pleaded, her eyes begging him. "You're more than just me, Damon."

He rolled his eyes.

"You are."

"Without you, I'm nothing more than genes and we both know, I don't have the best ones."

"You're wrong."

"About what?"

"You," Elena said, casting him a sweet smile. "You think you're the product of your father's cruelty. You think you're a monster, just like him."

Damon opened his mouth to speak, but Elena cut him off by saying. "Don't. Don't try to convince me that you are a monster. You're not. You're kind. You love. And that sounds a lot more like your mother than your father."

The way her brown eyes looked at him in that moment, the love, trust and warmth radiating out of them, made Damon's heart swell. It were in moments like this, that Damon truly saw the extent of her love for him. She told him every day, but to be told something and to actually see it radiating off the person you love the most in the world, was the stuff of dreams. Dreams Damon had never allowed himself to believe in before. Dreams she'd made come true by having faith in him, by believing in the man in him.

"So," Elena sang, stroking the strand of hair in his neck. "On to lighter subjec−"

"Marry me."

For a moment, Elena couldn't do anything but stare at him, her jaw slackening under his blue, waiting gaze.

"What?" Elena finally grated out.

"Marry me," he rumbled again.

Elena shook her head, opening and closing her mouth a few times before whispering, "You're just saying that in the heat of the moment. You don't mean−"

Before she could say another word, he reached in the pocket of the leather jacket that hung over the couch and pulled out a little box, opening it in front of her widening eyes, revealing a beautiful, perfect ring. A ring with a Lapis Lazuli stone in the center and a Salvatore crest to finish the whole thing off. She was going to be part of his family, she was going to be a Salvatore and he wanted everyone to know.

"Does that look like a heat of the moment thing?" he asked, smiling at her perplexed expression.

Elena opened her mouth again, her eyes sparkling. And then, suddenly, the spark in her eyes vanished completely. Instead, he could've sworn he saw sadness creeping back into her gaze.

"I've had this made a week after you moved in. I was waiting for the right moment−" Damon continued, taking the ring out of its black box. "−but the truth is, every moment with you is the right moment."

Slowly, he reached for her hand and held it in his, the ring clutched between his free fingers.

"Damon," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't−"

"Elena Gilbert," he said like she hadn't spoken. "You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted, strong, stubborn woman I've ever met. You're the only one on this earth who can drive me crazy and calm me down at the same time. You are my Salvatore, my Savior, and it would be my honor if you'd spend the rest of eternity with me."

Her eyes watered up as she watched him slip the ring on her finger.

"Elena Gilbert," he asked, smiling. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she whimpered, a few tears escaping her eyes. "God, yes!"

And then she was kissing him, passionately, like there was no tomorrow.

"I take it you like the ring" he said as she released his lips to breath.

She stared at her new piece of jewelry, touching the crest, her eyebrows turning down into a deep frown.

"What?" Damon asked, tracing the wrinkle between her brows.

Elena looked up again, her eyes determined now, her voice stronger than before when she said, "Damon, I have to tell you something. Hertz−"

"−is still around. I know," he interrupted. "And I know we agreed we wouldn't talk about the future again until we've dealt with him."

Elena shook her head, about to say something else when Damon said, "And I know we'll have to deal with a lot of people who are not going to be thrilled about our engagement, but they'll come around. Bonnie, Caroline, Jenna, Jeremy−"

"Jeremy." Elena's eyes dropped back to her ring. "Right."

"He'll be fine."

"Yeah," Elena mumbled. "He will be."

"Everything will be fine."

Elena nodded, a little smile pulling at her lips when she whispered, "Kiss me."

"If I must."

He smiled until their lips met and her smell overtook his senses. Rumbling into her mouth, Damon pressed Elena's body closer to his, feeling her heath seep through his shirt.

"God, you feel good," Elena moaned, moving so she straddled him.

Damon growled, his nails trailing down her arms.

"But," she grated, her voice raw with unsatisfied want. "As much as I would love to continue where we left off this morning−"

"−and noon−"

"−this is about to become a threesome and if memory serves, you're not a big fan of threesomes ."

Damon cast her a confused look.

"Alaric's on his way."

"Now?"

"He'll be here soon," she said, caressing his neck." Too soon."

"Why?"

"He pulled me aside after class, told me he missed his friend−"

"Alaric?" Damon growled. "That doesn't sound like him."

"Well, he didn't say it in so many words, but it was obvious and I felt guilty. I mean, we have been pretty caught up in each other. When was the last time we left the house, other than to take me to school?"

Damon shrugged. "I prefer to spend my time with you."

"So do I," Elena admitted. "But your friend misses you and I know something about missing friends, so, I told him you'd grab a drink with him tonight."

"Call him," Damon rumbled, his nails trailing up her legs now, something he knew drove her crazy. "Cancel."

Elena swallowed hard, her own nails digging deeper into his chest. "I can't. He'd be disappointed. Plus, he's probably already on his way. He should be here in ten minutes."

"I can make you come twice in that time."

A little moan floated of her lips. "Stop it."

"Make me."

* * *

"Thank God Alaric's not the punctual-type," Damon growled as Elena fell down on his chest, breathing heavily against his damp skin.

Elena smiled, looking up into his blue eyes. "There's something seriously wrong with us, you know. We have no self control."

"Fun, isn't it," he rumbled, doing that eye-thing he did.

She laughed, her body satisfied, her mind peacefully silent.

She didn't want to think.

Not yet.

"You can still call and cancel," he said, his fingers sifting through her hair. "We could stay here forever, like we planned, remember? Right here, on the floor, I promised you we'd never move from our spot."

She did remember. How could she forget? It was the first night they'd made love. Not a quickie in the library, but an all-consuming collision of pure love.

"Remind me why we ended up leaving," he rumbled, kissing her forehead. "What happened?"

It wasn't an actual question, but she answered anyway. "Life," she whispered, her mind catching up to reality. "Life happened."

And time was running out on _hers_.

Feeling a lump built up in her throat, Elena turned Damon's wrist, checking his watch. Two more hours to midnight.

Two.

Damon's body tensed underneath her, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"What?" she asked, staring up into his blue eyes.

"He's here."

Before she could process that, Damon was up, pulling his clothes back on and handing her hers.

Just as she'd pulled her shirt back over her head, there was a knock on the door and after one last annoyed look, Damon let Alaric in.

"Hey, Elena," Alaric greeted a little awkwardly. The discarded blanket on the floor and their rummaged appearance no doubt gave away what they'd been doing right before he'd interrupted and as her teacher and her aunt's new boyfriend, he no doubt had conflicting feelings about it.

"You ready?" Alaric said, turning to Damon.

"Sure. One sec."

In a half jog, he made his way towards her, pulling her flush against him as he said, "I won't be late."

_You'll be _too_ late._

"Take your time," she said, surprised her voice wasn't shaking or giving anything away since inside, she was screaming. Screaming for him to stay, for her to tell him, tell him everything, let him safe the day. But she couldn't. She couldn't risk losing _everyone_ just for a small chance _she_ could be saved. Not this time. She knew what she had to do and she was going to do it, no matter what. She would protect those she loved.

"Keep the doors locked," he said, softly running his fingers over her collarbone. "Don't invite anyone in you don't know−"

"−Don't take candy from strangers and don't get in any dark vans with tinted windows," Alaric mocked. "She's not ten, Damon."

Damon didn't laugh, though. He kept his eyes glued to hers until she nodded, smiling weakly. "I won't let anyone in. I promise."

"Good," he smiled, sweetly grabbing her chin and pulling her face closer to his. "I love you."

He heart weeping, she whispered, "I love you."

And then, he kissed her. Sweetly. Briefly. Too briefly. All Elena wanted to do was clutch him to her and give him a kiss that held everything she felt for him. Every ounce of love, friendship, faith. She just wanted to kiss him a real goodbye. But she couldn't even do that. Not without raising his suspicion.

"Bye." And with that, he shut the door.

With that, he was gone.

And all Elena could do, was let him go.

* * *

"I'm going to regret this in the morning."

"Regrets are fun!" Damon said, filling Alaric's glass to the rim. "When you regret something, it means you've done it right."

Alaric laughed, finding his friend's strange sense of humor a breath of fresh air in Mystic Falls. There weren't a lot of people he could see himself having a good time with out there, but with Damon, he was never bored. And that's not something he'd see coming. He didn't even like Damon in the beginning, which is why he understood Jenna's objections about him hanging out with the oldest Salvatore. His new girlfriend didn't know Damon, went by rumors and thought he was a bad influence.

"Don't tell me auntie Jenna gave you a curfew," Damon said, reading his mind.

"No, but−"

"−she doesn't trust me."

"Not in the least."

"I never should've uncompelled her," Damon mumbled, finishing his own drink.

Alaric frowned. "What? You compelled her?"

"To like me, yes. I had to," Damon said like it was no big deal. "I had to get Elena out of the house and Jenna was standing in the way−"

"−so you compelled her?"

"Don't sound so shocked," he rumbled. "And I undid it a week later. Elena asked me to."

"And you listened."

Damon just shot him a typical Damon look and poured himself another drink.

"So, you and Jenna," Damon said, gesturing to the bartender to bring another bottle. "How's that going?"

"Good," Alaric admitted, a smile pulling at his lips when he thought of her. "Great, actually. You and Elena?"

"Good too."

"Great."

"Yeah, we're getting married."

Alaric almost choked on his drink, coughing as Damon smirked.

"Say what now?" he choked out, trying to read his friend's eyes.

"You heard me."

"You're getting married?"

"Yes."

"To Elena Gilbert?"

"Who else?"

"Did you ask her?"

"No," Damon gnarled, glaring. "I'm going to force her down the aisle and make her say I do, because that's what I do."

"OK," Alaric said, raising his glass as a peace offering. "I'm sorry."

Damon sat back, touching his drink to Alaric's. "It's OK. "

Alaric laughed.

"What?"

"Not so long ago, you would've snapped my neck at the accusation. Or at least someone's neck. She really softened you up, didn't she? Elena."

Damon sniffed. "No she didn't."

"OK," Alaric mumbled. "Whatever you say."

Damon shot him a little smile and that's all Alaric knew he'd get. Damon Salvatore would never admit he'd grown kinder, softer since he'd fallen in love with Elena, but Alaric suspected he knew all too well. He knew the influence the girl had on him, but did he know the influence _he_ had on _her_. Over the last couple of months, Alaric had seen Elena grow into a more confident woman. A woman who had a strong voice, a strong opinion about things. A woman who didn't shy away from confrontation anymore, who wasn't afraid to believe in herself. And that right there was the truth many people weren't ready to face yet: Damon Salvatore had been the best thing that ever happened to Elena Gilbert.

"She's fine, Damon," Alaric laughed when the vampire checked his phone for the zillionth time that night. "Elena is fine."

"I know," he mumbled, taking another gulp from his drink. "I just hate leaving her alone."

"I noticed."

Damon smiled weakly, putting his phone away. "Yeah, Elena said."

Alaric frowned. "Elena said what?"

"That you felt neglected," Damon said, a mocking tone in his voice.

"Me?" Alaric laughed. Typical Damon, turning things around so he wouldn't lose face. "OK, fine, _I'm_ the needy one. Whatever."

"Why are you saying it like that? You _are_ the needy one. Elena told me you missed me, don't pretend it's not true."

"Oh, this is rich," Alaric snickered as Damon popped a chip in his mouth. "You're actually keeping it up?"

"Keeping what up?"

"Elena told me, Damon."

"Told you what?"

"That _you_ missed _me_."

"What?" Damon growled, putting down the glass that was already halfway to his lips.

"She stayed behind after class today, told me you missed me, told me you were spending all your time at the house to keep her safe, but that you missed your friend. She said she felt−"

"−guilty."

"Yeah."

Alaric didn't understand why Damon didn't just give up the charade and admitted it at that point, but most of all, he didn't understand why Damon's face had suddenly lost all its color and his jaw had set in a way that looked unnatural.

"We need to go," the vampire suddenly growled, jumping up from his stool, throwing money on the counter.

"What?" Alaric asked, confused. "We just bought another bottle. Why do we−"

"Now!"

Damon was already halfway across The Grill before Alaric had so much as put his jacket back on. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

* * *

"Elena?!"

"Maybe she's out with−"

Before he could finish, Damon was a blur, searching the house.

_She's not here,_ he thought, his mind frantic. _She lied to me. She lied to Alaric. She wanted me out of the house. Why?_

"Damon!"

Alaric's voice pulled him back to the living room. He was standing by the couch, holding a piece of paper in his hand and−

"Where did you get that?" Damon snapped, grabbing the ring from him, the ring he'd given to Elena only a few hours ago.

Alaric didn't say anything. Instead, he gave him the note he was holding, the note that had Elena's beautiful handwriting on it.

* * *

Damon stormed into The Grill, heading straight for the same table he'd been avoiding all night. The table in the corner of the room, by the fireplace, occupied by his least favorite people in the world.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

Bonnie had been the first one to spot him, making Caroline, Tyler and Matt turn in their chairs, too. He could tell by their expressions he was their least favorite person in the world, too. But he didn't care. All he cared about, was Elena.

"Damon?" Caroline said in a confused voice when he reached them. "What are you doing her−"

"It's Elena," he growled, not wasting any time on chitchat. "She's in trouble."

"In trouble _how_?" Matt jumped in.

"She gave herself over to Hertz."

"What?" Bonnie hissed. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know," Damon snapped.

And that was the truth. He'd been racking his brain for possible reasons as to why she'd just given up, why she'd just thrown away everything. Surely, she must've known handing herself over to Hertz would mean she'd die.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Tyler barked.

The anger inside Damon almost reached a breaking point at that. "I didn't feel like it," Damon growled, his blue eyes turning a shade darker. "So I just laid back and watched it happen!"

"Damon," Alaric warned behind him, picking up on his friend's fury. Alaric was one of the two people who actually knew him, so he knew how close he was to losing control and ripping those idiots in front of him apart.

"I wasn't there!" Damon barked, trying to pull himself together. "If I had been, there's no way in hell he would've taken her!"

"Wait," Matt said, frowning. "If you weren't there, then how do you know it was Hertz?"

"She left me this note," he said, slamming the piece of paper down on the table.

"_I am sorry_?" Tyler read aloud. "That's it? _I am sorry_?"

"And this," Damon added, his heart breaking as he put the ring on the note.

"What's that?" Caroline asked, clearly already knowing the answer. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.

"Were you two engaged?" Matt asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes," Damon whispered. "We were. I asked her tonight."

The four humans around the table exchanged glances, glances that made the veins around Damon's eyes pop out.

"What?" he snarled.

"She left on the night you got engaged," Caroline said in a sweet voice Damon hadn't heard before. "She left the ring and a note that only says _I am sorry_."

"So?" Damon snapped.

"So," Caroline continued. "It sort of looks like−"

"She left you, man," Tyler finished.

_Don't kill the humans. _

_Elena loves the humans. _

_Don't kill the humans._

"She didn't leave me," Damon hissed, shoving the note and ring back in his pocket.

"She's seventeen, Damon," Matt said. "And she always said she didn't want to marry young."

"She didn't want to marry _you_ young, Mattie," Damon sniffed. "She told me about your cute little proposal when you two were barely sixteen. I guess she was waiting for a real man to come along."

"You son of a−"

"Hey!" Tyler cut him off. "Enough!"

Matt relaxed, but kept glaring at Damon, sitting back in his chair.

"Look," Tyler continued. "All signs point to Elena leaving you, Damon. I mean, what's more likely: her getting cold feet and taking off or her giving herself over to Hertz?"

"Believe me, I wish you were right! I wish she just left me and that she's safe, but I know her. I know Elena and−"

"We know Elena, too, Damon," Caroline said. "Better than you and I'm telling you−"

"Better than me?" Damon hissed, feeling himself lose control.

"Damon," Alaric said in a calm voice. "Calm−"

"_**BETTER THAN ME?**_" He wasn't listening to Alaric anymore. He couldn't. _"__**Are you four freaking kidding me? You know her? You don't know shit about her! If you did, you never would've put her through what you put her through! Elena loved you! All of you! She still loves you! And she hurts every single day because of it! And there's nothing I can do! It was up to you four idiots to make her feel better! But you never came! You never once called, never once stopped by The Boarding House! You just ignored her! Even at school! And why? Because of me? Because she loves me? Because I love her? If any of you had taken a few minutes out of your otherwise useless days and made some effort to stop by, you would've seen that we are perfect together! That we are happy! Why is that so hard to believe? Why wouldn't you want that for her?"**_

"Because you'll hurt her! You're Damon Salvatore!"

"And you're Caroline Forbes, the vampire!" he snapped at the blond. "And your boyfriend is Tyler Lockwood, the werewolf! And your best friends are Bonnie Bennett, the witch and Matt Donovan, the quarterback, which, by the way, is the worst label of all! What does it matter who I am? **I LOVE HER!**"

"OK, enough," Bonnie said, jumping up from her chair. It was only then that Damon realized the witch almost hadn't spoken.

"You're right," Caroline said. "This is ridiculous. Damon, she left you and when she shows her face again−"

"No," Bonnie snapped before Damon could. "I mean, enough out of you three."

Damon frowned at the witch who was now staring at him, her chin raised determined.

"I lost her once because I didn't listen to you. I'm not going to lose her again. If you say she's in trouble, I believe you."

Damon nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

"We need to stop by my house," Bonnie said, grabbing her purse. " I need some things to do a locater spell. And I'm going to need that ring."

* * *

"God, that stuff smells."

"I know," Bonnie said, crushing the herbs between her fingers as Damon drove up to the Boarding House. "But we need it."

"As opposed to _them_," he snarled, checking the review mirror. Caroline's car was still behind them, in it Caroline, Tyler, Matt and Alaric.

"They want to help."

"They want to feel better."

Bonnie sighed. "Believe this or not, we missed her too, Damon."

"Yeah, well, she's Elena. How can you not miss her?"

Bonnie smiled at that, getting out of the car. The sky above was showing the first signs of the sun breaking through, flames of orange mixing in with the darkness and the stars. As a witch, she was connected to nature more intensely than normal humans and sights like that actually warmed her insides, filled her with power.

"You can set up here," Damon said, walking her to the living room.

"OK," she said, spreading out a map on the wooden coffee table. "Now all I need is her ring and silence."

Damon put the ring in front of her, standing right behind the witch as she murmured Latin over the crystal pendulum she was swinging back and forth.

"Seriously, this is one awesome house man," Tyler boomed as he walked in. "How much did this cost?"

"More than you could afford, Ty," Matt laughed, coming in after him.

"You don't know that," Caroline said, stepping aside so Alaric could walk through the door. "Maybe one day we could move into something like−"

"**Shut up!**" Damon yelled when Bonnie sighed. "We're busy here, so if you wouldn't mind−"

"If _you_ wouldn't mind−" Caroline cut him off. "I would really like it if you invited me in."

"Sorry, Blondie," Damon growled. "If this was still my house, you wouldn't even need an invitation, but this is Elena's house now. Only she can invite you in."

"Great," Caroline sighed, pushing against the invisible wall that kept her out on the porch. "I'll just hang here, then."

"She's definitely not in Mystic Falls anymore," Bonnie said, forcing all the attention back to her. "He took her somewhere else."

"Doesn't matter," Damon rumbled. "I can get anywhere _fast_. Just find her and I'll save her."

"I'm working on it," the witch said as the crystal started swinging in larger circles. "Come on, Elena. Talk to me."

"If you find her, I'm coming," Tyler said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Lockwood−" Damon started.

"Lockwood, nothing," Tyler snapped. "I'm just as fast as you and one little bite from me will take this Hertz-guy out. I'm coming."

"So am I, by the way," Caroline said, waving.

"Fine," Damon sighed. "But if you two slow me down, I'll snap your necks."

"Deal," Caroline sang.

"What the−" Bonnie whispered, shaking her hand.

"What?" Damon asked, his heart dropping.

"I don't get it," Bonnie mumbled.

"Don't get what, witch?"

"The crystal−"

His stomach knotting together, he looked over her shoulder, seeing the crystal hang right underneath her hand, motionless. "I don't understand−"

"Uhm, guys−"

"Not now, Caroline!" Damon barked. "What does this mean, Bonnie?"

"I have no clue. This never happened before. Maybe I need another personal object. A picture or something."

"Damon−"

"I can get you a picture," Damon said, ignoring the blond vampire again. "I can get you a dozen pictures. How many−"

"Damon, please−"

"What, Caroline?" he yelled, turning.

Turning to find Caroline standing right beside him.

"How did you get in?" His heart answered the question his mind refused to accept. "No."

Caroline's eyes were filled with tears, a few trickling down her cheeks. "Damon, I−"

"**HOW DID YOU GET IN?**"

No one answered. Instead, the room went deadly silent. Numb, Damon sank down on the couch, his eyes glazed over, his mind and body shutting down. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

She wasn't dead.

* * *

**Hey guys! What did you think! Obviously, this is 'just' a filler chapter before the next one, but I tried to make it exciting! Please, let me know! I love your reviews! And just so you know, we're about two (or even one) chapter away from the end! So don't quite on me now!**

**xxxLustAndLove**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

She should write more. This were going to be here last words to him. _I am sorry_ wasn't enough. But what more was there to say? Everything else had been said. He knew she loved him. He knew she believed in him. He knew he had to go on.

Wiping a tear from her chin, she put the note on the couch that still held the warmth from his body and put her ring on top of it. Strange how attached she already was to that ring. Strange how it already felt like a part of her.

"Wipe that stupid smile of your face," Elena snarled, walking down the Boarding House's porch.

Hertz raised his hands, the moonlight streaking down on his blond hair and the cut, dark suit he was wearing. "Sorry, dear. I'm just impressed."

"By what?"

"You. I really thought you weren't going to hack it. I was completely prepared to rip off Salvatore's head to get to you."

Elena's nostrils flared, her hands shoved in her jacket pockets. "Where's my brother?"

"Safe."

"He's not here?" Elena snapped. "We had a deal!"

"Yes, we did. Your brother goes free when I have my wife back."

"That wasn't the deal! The deal was, I give myself over, I keep Damon in the dark and you let my brother go!"

"Was it?"

"Yes!"

"I don't think so. My wife for your brother."

"But you get your wife back when you hand me over to your employer! You get your wife back when I'm pretty much dead! How do I know you'll release Jeremy?"

"I told you, you have my word."

Elena sniffed, her heart racing. "You're a lying piece of shit! I never should've trusted you! I should've told Damon−"

"What would I get out of killing your brother, dear?" Hertz cut her off. "Nothing. If I get Abigail back, your brother is free to go. I promise."

"Oh, you promise? I feel so much better now."

Hertz sighed. "Well, as much as I would like to keep this verbal duel going, we do need to be somewhere."

Elena grinded her teeth, trying not to let it sink in where she was going. Trying to let it sink in she was about to die.

"Fine," she snarled. "As long as I can get away from you, I'll go anywhere."

"That's the spirit," he rumbled, reaching out his hand for her. "Hold on tight."

* * *

Elena gasped, her eyes trying to focus, her lunges trying to draw in the breath she so desperately needed.

"Don't worry, dear," Hertz said, patting her back. "We're almost there."

"I think I'm going to throw up," she croaked, bending over.

"Yeah, that happens."

Elena wasn't used to travelling this way from one place to another. The only time she'd ever travelled at vampire speed was after Damon had saved her from Christian and that had only been from the woods to the Boarding House. A short distance, but she'd even felt that. She didn't even know how long Hertz had been dragging her around by now, but it had been too long. Dozens of times had they already stopped, just long enough for her to take a breath, but she didn't know how much longer she was going to keep this up without passing out.

"Come on, Gilbert," Hertz sang. "Buckle up."

"I need a minute."

"We don't have−"

"**I'm on my way to get killed, my body hurts all over and I'm stuck with a vampire who holds my brother hostage somewhere! I need a fucking break, OK! I need to fucking breath!**"

Hertz smiled again. She really hated that smile. "Such profanities."

"Yeah, well, the occasion asks for it."

"Humans," Hertz sighed, checking his watch. "You have a minute."

"Geeh, thanks. You're too kind."

Hertz winked, sitting down on a log.

"While we're here," Elena said, standing up as straight as her aching body would let here. "I want to ask you something."

Hertz' brows rose expectantly. "Ask away."

"When all this is over. When I'm−" she trailed off, a lump in her throat stopping her from uttering the word.

"−dead?" Hertz finished for her.

She nodded. "I want you to promise me you'll leave my town."

"Oh, no," he mocked. "Leave Mystic Falls? The most boring, plain, backwards place I've ever come across? However will I do that?"

"I'm serious," Elena said, her eyes spitting fire. "I want you to go. And more importantly, I want you to disappear."

Hertz tensed at that. "Disappear?"

"Yes. I want you to give me your word, the thing that's _oh so_ precious to you, and promise me Damon will never find you."

Comprehension dawned on his sculpted face, his black eyes sparkling. "Oh, I see. You want to make sure he doesn't go on a suicide mission."

"No, he'll go," she said, knowing this to be true. After all, it's what she would do. She would hunt Hertz down to the end of the world if the roles were reversed. "But I want you to promise me, he won't succeed. I want you to promise me, you'll stay far away from Damon Salvatore."

"So," Hertz said, amusement in his voice. "You want me to basically live my life around Damon's plans? You want me to move every time he gets close, just so he'll never track me down and try to kill me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said in that mocking voice again. "Are you worried about me?"

Elena laughed at that, a dark, bitter laugh she'd never heard come out of her mouth before. "I detest you. Every single fiber of my being, hates your guts, but that doesn't mean I don't realize how powerful you are. Damon himself once told me you were the vampire every creature of the night fears. We both know that if he comes after you, he won't win. So, I want you to stay away from him, just so he can never give you a reason to kill him."

"And why would I agree to that?"

"Because deep down, you have somewhat of a conscious. Deep down, you know what you're doing to me is wrong. And you know what you're doing to Damon is terrible. You're taking me from him, like they took your wife. You know how this will destroy him."

"Then maybe killing him is the humane thing to do, no?"

"Maybe," she admitted, knowing it's what she would want if she had to face eternity without Damon. "But I, the girl you're about to send into her death, is asking you as a dying wish, to spare the man she loves."

Tipping his head, Hertz stood up, making his way towards her in that predatory way vampires did, only stopping an inch from her body. "He's not a man, you know, your fiancée. He's a monster."

Elena raised her chin, her eyes bravely on his. "You don't know anything about Damon."

"How can a human as pure as you, love someone like him. The things he's done−"

"−I accepted. Because that's not who he is. Not anymore. He's good. He'll never be a saint, but he's _good_, down to his very core. I know. I've seen it. I've been there and he's beautiful."

Hertz smiled sadly, tracing her jawline with one of his cold, boney fingers. "It must be nice to have someone love you like that."

Elena frowned. "You have your wife."

"She only loved me once she became a vampire and us as vampires, well, let's just say there was never any good to be found. We're evil. We love each other, but we love the hunt, the blood, the depravity more. She could never see me the way you see Damon while _she_ was still pure."

"Then why do this?" Elena asked, a little spark of hope flaring up. "Why not just let me go and find someone who will love you above everything else? I'll even help you."

"You'll _help_ me?" he said, his eyes wide.

"Yes."

"You promise?" he rumbled.

"Yes," she sang. "Yes, I promise."

He stared at her for a long minute as Elena's heart swelled with the newfound promise of a future…and then he burst out in laugher, clutching his sides.

"Oh, God, I couldn't keep it up!" he snickered, his eyes teary. "That was so pathetic, Gilbert."

"Screw you, Hertz!" Elena barked.

"Oh, God," he whispered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "It's been ages since I laughed like that. My ribs actually hurt."

"Just tell me you'll stay away from Damon!" she snapped, her hands balling up in fists by her side. "Promise me!"

"Fine," he said, shrugging. "I'll stay clear off him, as long as it takes. I give you my word, I will not harm a hair on Damon's head."

Elena nodded. She didn't want to say _thank you_. That just felt wrong considering the situation they were in.

"Now," he snarled in his cold voice again, grabbing her arm painfully. "Your minute's up."

* * *

"What is this place?" Elena whispered, her legs trembling as Hertz stopped for the very last time. She didn't recognize the house in front of her and if she'd ever seen it, she would've remembered. There was no forgetting a two story, modern, iron gated mansion. "Where are we?"

"Where we need to be."

He pushed the nape of her back, forcing her to walk out in front of him, forcing her to walk to her own death. And even though she'd promised herself to be brave, to show no fear, she knew that was going to be one promise she had to break. As she walked up the graveled driveway, her heart felt like the thrumming wings of a caged bird. She'd never known true panic until that very moment. She'd never been truly petrified.

Every sense was heightened.

She heard _everything_.

Her own shallow breath.

Hertz' teeth grinding.

The leaves from the surrounding trees rustling in the wind.

Every muscle in her body was tense, set on edge, begging her to run and yet she sure that if she did, her legs wouldn't hold her. She felt powerful and weak at the same time.

"Just so you know," Hertz said, knocking on the large metal door. "I wish there was another way."

"Eat shit."

That creepy smile crept up his lips again, but before he could respond, the door swung open, revealing a tall, broad grizzly bear of a man.

"Yes?" he boomed, his voice matching his size.

"I'm expected."

The man−although Elena seriously doubted he _was_ a man−gave them both the once-over and then stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. If the circumstances had been different, Elena might have enjoyed the gorgeous house she was led through. The marble floors. The fancy chandeliers. The horseshoe staircase. But she couldn't enjoy it. She couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything. Not anymore. She was numb. And that's exactly what she had to be. She needed to be numb to keep that wall up. That wall that kept her from truly letting it sink in that she was going to die.

That she was never going to see Damon again.

That she wasn't sure Jeremy was going to be safe.

That she was never going to make up with her friends.

She _couldn't_ let that sink in, because if she did…she would break. In front of those who wanted nothing more than to break her.

She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

"Wait here."

Hertz stopped, his hand never leaving her arm as they stood in the middle of a room that could only be described as a ballroom. A huge, open space. Polished, wooden floors. More chandeliers hanging from arched ceilings. And giant, cast iron, gothic windows through which Elena could see flickers of orange light dancing in the dark sky. The sun was coming.

Footsteps echoed to them from the hallway, that bird in her chest clawed to break free.

"Remember what you promised me," Elena whispered, her hands starting to sweat. "Don't hurt him."

"Never."

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes to read his expression and if he was lying, he hid it well. Feeling cold and hot at the same time, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight, she focused back on where the footsteps were coming from. On where her end was coming from.

His hand left her arm. He knew she was trapped. With no way out.

The footsteps turned the corner. She finally saw who'd been behind all of this from the start.

And then it happened.

What she'd tried to avoid all night.

Her body gave up.

The darkness took over.

And she passed out.

* * *

_What the hell was that?_

Her head hurting from no doubt hitting the wooden floor, hard, Elena felt her consciousness slip back into her body. Her eyes still closed, she tried to make sense of what she'd seen. Clearly, her mind was trying to somehow explain what was happening. Obviously she hadn't actually seen what she'd seen. It wasn't possible. It was just her subconscious, telling her she felt responsible for getting to this point, blaming _herself_ for meeting her demise so soon. There was no other explanation. It wasn't possible. It wasn't−

"−sun's coming up soon," a too familiar voice said. "I suggest those who don't own a daylight ring use the tunnels I had built to hide from it. I don't want burn marks on my new floors. I just had them detailed."

Her heart sped up. Her mind couldn't cope. What the hell was going on?

"You don't have to kill her, you know."

_Hertz. He's still here._

"Don't tell me _you _have fallen for the girl, too, Alexander."

He sniffed. "Off course not. I'm just saying−"

"−nothing," an unfamiliar female voice hissed. "He's saying nothing. Instead, he's taking me home. Now."

"Abigail−"

"Now, Alex!"

A growl resonated through the room and then two pairs of footsteps moved away from her. Leaving her alone with−

Carefully, she opened her eyes.

And there she was.

Brown, curly hair.

Big brown eyes.

Red, plumb lips.

It was her.

Elena Gilbert.

What the hell.

"Well, look who's awake," she sang in her own voice. "Get up."

Swallowing hard, her mind trying to make sense of what she was seeing, Elena scrambled up, never taking her eyes of…herself.

"What−" she trailed off, standing up straight. "Who are you? What's going on? Why do you look like me?"

The woman stared at her for a heartbeat and then started laughing. Loudly. The cold sound bouncing off the stone walls.

What was so funny?

"They didn't tell you," she still snickered, stopping right in front of her, her eyes piercing Elena's. "That's interesting."

"Who didn't tell me what?" Elena snapped, anger and panic mixing together in her chest. "And who are you?"

She smiled, raising her chin as she sang, "I'm Katherine. Katherine Pierce."

Everything inside Elena went silent.

Every thought vanished.

Every feeling ebbed away.

_This_ was Katherine Pierce? _This_ was the woman the Salvatores once loved? The woman who'd killed them? Tore them apart?

"_You_ are Katherine?"

"In the flesh," she sang, biting her lip. Damon had been right. She did look like a spoiled, self-centered school girl. Did _she_ look like that, too?"

"How come we're identical?"

"You're my doppelganger," she said, like it was the most natural, obvious thing in the world.

"I'm your doppel−" she shook her head, trying to shake some sense into all of this. When that didn't work, she said, "_You're_ the one who's been trying to kill me?"

"Surprise."

"Why?" Elena asked, confusion thick in her voice. She didn't understand. Why would Katherine Pierce, a powerful vampire she'd never met before, want her, Elena Gilbert, a human, dead? What was in it for _her_.

"Why not?" Katherine said, shrugging, her thick curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I mean, you've been quite an inconvenience."

"Me? How?"

"Oh, come on," she snapped. "Don't pull that innocent-act on me. It might fool my dear Salvatore boys, but not me."

Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The way she'd said _my _gave it all away.

"You're jealous," Elena said, trying to keep the contempt out of her voice. "That's what this is all about? You're jealous about my connection to Damon and Stefan, so you're murdering me?"

"Your connection?" she hissed, her nostrils flaring. "Is that what you call it? I call it whoring around!"

"Whoring−"

"When I first heard of your existence," she continued, that icy lining now permanently seeped into her words. "It was my understanding that you were with Stefan. And yet, Hertz told me it was Damon who saved you from his bite and it was Damon who you've been shacking up with. That made me change my plans. That made me want to meet you. Before I killed you_._"

Elena just grinded her teeth together, glaring.

"I just didn't get how some _human_ could twist Damon and Stefan around her finger like that, but I do now," Katherine continued. "See, I'd never laid eyes on you before tonight. I had to stay out of the whole mess. The Salvatores couldn't know I was behind everything. After all, once you're gone, I'm the one who'll be there to comfort them."

Elena's stomach turned.

"But now that I've seen you, it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"Their attraction to you," Katherine sang. "Don't tell me you don't get it Elena. Just think. If Damon truly loves you so much, why did he never tell you about the resemblance?" she didn't wait for an answer. "Because he _doesn't_ love _you_. You just remind him of the woman he _does_ love."

"You," Elena whispered, watching Katherine's eyes spark with victory.

"Yes."

And then, Elena did something Katherine clearly hadn't seen coming.

She smiled.

With her lips, with her eyes, with her whole body, she smiled.

"What?" Katherine snapped. "What's so funny?"

"You," Elena said, unable to wipe the grin of her face. "You just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Love."

Whatever trace of humanity Katherine still had left in her gaze disappeared, her eyes turning a solid black. "Excuse me?"

"I know Damon, Katherine. And Damon knows me. And he knows I'm prone to being more than a little self-conscious. He must've thought that if he told me I looked like you, I would've jumped to the same conclusion you're trying to force on me now and he didn't want to put me through that. He didn't want there to be a single doubt in my mind that he loves me. _Me_. The thing is, though, what Damon doesn't realize, is that I've grown. I've grown enough to believe that I'm worthy of being loved by him. I've grown to believe in him and me, in _us_, more than I believe in anything. So _all_ this attempt at trying to make me doubt him is doing, is showing me how pathetic you are and how little you know him."

"I made him!"

"No!" Elena snapped, not sure where her bravery came from. Katherine was clearly about to lose control. Her lips were thin, the veins around her eyes were throbbing and yet, she couldn't bring herself to being scared, to hold back. If these were her last moments on earth, she wasn't going to spend them begging. She was going to spend them fighting. For him. "You didn't make him, Katherine! You broke him! You turned him into someone he hated! _He_ is the one who made himself, who built himself up from scratch, trying to leave behind the monster _you_ turned him into! And _I_ am the one he loves! And from where I'm standing, I think you know that! I think you know that what we have is real! That's why you're going to kill me instead of just competing for his love! You know you can never win that fight!"

"I _could_ win that fight! I _did_ win that fight, centuries ago, long before you were even born!"

"You think you won their _love_ back then?" Elena snarled, appalled. "Katherine, you used them! You compelled them to love you, to accept you! You turned two loving brothers against each other for your own personal pleasure! That's not love! I don't know what kind of sick, sadistic, twisted thing it was, but it was never−"

Katherine screamed, her hands flying up.

And the last thing Elena Gilbert heard before she died was her own neck snapping.

* * *

**So, that was Elena's POV! I hope you liked it! I wanted to make it longer, but since you guys were so eager to know what was going on, I figured, better something than nothing, right? Two more chapters coming! Get ready! And as always, thanks for your reviews! They keep me motivated to write as fast as I can!**

**xxxx**


	23. Chapter 23: The Final Chapter

**Chapter 23**

**Three months ago.**

"I think you're the only woman in the world who can get all of her stuff in one bag."

Elena smiled, nudging Damon's side as they walked up the Boarding House's driveway.

"It's not like I'm moving in with you forever−"

_That's what you think._

"Or to another country," she sang. "I can always go back to the house and get more."

"Or I could take you shopping," Damon rumbled seductively. "There are a few stores I would _love_ for you to try out some things."

"Let me guess," Elena singsonged. "All those stores are packed with lace, tulle and satin."

"No," Damon smiled. "I'm sure there's some silk or leather, too."

Elena giggled, softly snatching her bottom lip between her teeth. He really loved it when she did that. It made him want to take that lip and do all kinds of delectable things with it.

"Tell you what," Damon said, his voice a touch more primal than before. "If you let me take you to buy lingerie, I'll throw in that leather jacket you've been eyeing for weeks now, the one that you've been so desperate to buy you asked Jenna for an advance on your allowance over and over again."

Elena's eyes widened for a second. "How do you know−"

"Come on, Gilbert," Damon breathed. "Do you really think I wasn't keeping an eye on you?"

"Yeah, well, there's something you don't know."

"And what's that?" Damon asked, barely paying attention. He was too focused on the way her cheeks were starting to turn a deeper shade of red.

Biting that lip again, Elena hooked her fingers in his jacket and leaned in until her lips feathered the rim of his ear as she breathed, "The only reason I wanted that jacket was because it reminded me of you. I…wanted…you."

A soft _plop_ and then Elena's bag was on the ground, Damon's fingers too busy with digging into her flawless back to hold on to it any longer.

Her lips were a touch cold from the outside chill, but it wasn't long before they were hot and slippery, blood coursing through them as she molded them against his in a way no one else had ever done. Maybe that was because he didn't just feel her kiss on his _lips_. He felt it everywhere. In his chest. In his stomach. In his groin. _She_ was everywhere and he loved it. He loved _her_.

"How are we ever going to function normally?" she gasped against his chin.

"What?" Damon breathed, his mouth skimming her cheek, her nose, his lips unable to stop touching her, tasting her. She was like a magnet, her pull impossible to resist.

"How are we ever going to get anything done when all I can think about, all the time, is _this_?" she suckled his upper lip, his tongue greedily reaching out for hers.

"I mean, school starts soon," she moaned, her hands gliding down his chest as he feathered kisses to her jaw. "Too soon. And I'm sure you have stuff to do."

"All I have to _do_−" he growled, slowly pushing her towards the house. "−is you."

"You and the one-liners," Elena whispered before his lips found hers again, greedily, forcefully.

He backed her up against the door, grinding his hips into hers, making her murmur delicious little girly sounds into his mouth.

Her hands found their way around his neck and shoulders while his own hands caressed their way down her perfect body, over her white blouse, over her red skirt. His cock thrummed against the heat radiating from her in waves, his body desperately starting to beg for more friction. Growling, he grabbed her thigh, lifting it, pushing his hips forward, letting her feel the bulge inside his jeans as he rubbed it against her panties.

Panties he felt soaking against him.

In a primal move, unable to take it any longer, Damon slammed his hand against the solid, wooden door, forcing it open roughly. Panting, Elena broke the kiss, her eyes heated as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside with her.

But then Damon came to a complete stop.

Her little fingers lost their grip and she stumbled back, her eyes wide.

"What−" Damon could see realization dawn on her face before she even finished the question.

"You can't come in. I own the house now. I have to invite you."

"Love," he warned, not trusting her wicked smile. "Don't."

"Don't what?" she teased, her jacket slipping from her shoulders, falling to the ground with a soft _thumb_.

"Elena−"

"Damon−" she parroted, her fingers slowly popping the light buttons of her blouse.

As much as Damon loved to see her clothes stripped from her body, he preferred to be the one to do the stripping. That way, he could touch her, taste her, smell her as he bared her. _This_−watching, but not being able to touch−was excruciating. Especially in his pants.

"Invite me in." His voice was rough, barely human anymore, but that didn't seem to make any impression on Elena. On the contrary, it seemed to spur her on.

Her blouse slipped to the floor. Her two, creamy, plumb breasts were revealed to his darkening eyes as his hands tightened on the doorframe, the wood denting underneath his clutching fingers.

Slowly, Elena trailed her little fingers down the valley between her breast, over her perfect belly, down to the little, red skirt he still kicked himself over the head for. Why had he made her put that on?

"You really don't want to do this."

"Do what?" Elena chimed, a fake frown pulling her eyebrows down. But Damon could see what she was trying so hard to hide. He could see how much she was enjoying this. The little dimples in her cheeks−the ones he was fantasizing about burying his tongue in−were a dead giveaway.

"Oh," she whispered. "You mean, don't do _this_?"

A little mouthwatering shimmy of her hips made the light, red fabric slide down her long, tanned legs, leaving her standing in only a pair of black panties.

"Oops."

Growling, Damon pushed forward, only to be stopped by that same damned force that was keeping them apart. "**Invite. Me. In.**"

"What's the magic word?"

"Gilbert!" he barked, trying and failing to enter again.

"Nope," she sang. "That's not it."

He growled again.

Elena shrugged before bending over in a way that almost made him come on the spot.

"Okay, then," she tuned, pulling her skirt back up over her legs.

The sound of her zipper closing made a primal sound pass his lips.

"Elena," he warned. "You'll regret this."

She sighed, deeply, dramatically. "Wrong again."

And then, her blouse was placed back over her beautiful, slim shoulders.

"Wait," he snarled when her fingers found the first button.

"Yes?" she chimed back, her hands on her hips, her blouse hanging open just enough so he could still see the mounds of her breasts.

"Invite me in," Damon growled, his lust taking over his pride as he heard himself rumble, "Please."

"Thank God," Elena moaned, the expression on her face suddenly changing from confident to desperate. "Get in here."

He moved so fast Elena didn't even have time to register what was happening until her back hit the brick wall beside the fireplace.

Hard.

Luckily, Damon's hand behind her head stopped her from cracking her skull.

"You enjoyed that?" he rumbled, his body pressed so close to hers her breasts actually hurt a little.

"Like you've never made me beg for it," she murmured, grinding her hips over his.

"Oh, I'll make you beg for it," he growled, his fingers digging into her thighs right before he lifted her up. "But not today."

His lips descended on her throat, sucking her skin into his mouth until he knew it would leave a mark. Elena's fingers threaded through his hair in responds, tugging it, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Don't ever play that game again, sweetheart," Damon rumbled as she found his belt. "Or I'll make you pay."

"No," she smiled, kissing him sweetly. "You won't."

Unwillingly, he smiled back before suckling her collarbone, his teeth scraping it softly, making her arch even closer to him.

"God, Stefan!"

Damon's lips froze on her skin, everything inside of him knotting together painfully, his heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did you just call me?" he whispered, watching her with disappointment in his gaze.

"No," she said, her voice shaking as she tilted her chin to something behind him. "Stefan."

Frowning, Damon followed her gaze and found his brother standing in the doorway, his eyes unreadable.

"Sorry for interrupting," Stefan rumbled, throwing in the bag that Damon had left on the driveway. "You forgot this."

"Put me down," Elena whispered when Damon made no attempt to do so on his own.

Damon listened, reluctantly.

"What are you doing here, brother?" he growled, shielding Elena from Stefan's eyes while she buttoned up her blouse.

"I thought this was still my house."

"It is," Elena said, stepping out from behind Damon, fully clothed again. "Come in, Stefan."

"Elena−" Damon started.

She just grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I promised him."

"Where are you going?" Damon bellowed, trailing behind his brother who was already halfway up the stairs.

Elena followed. He could hear her tiny heart beating wildly behind him. She was scared.

"You're leaving?" Elena asked when she joined them in Stefan's room. On his bed, a large duffel bag was already thick with books and clothes.

"You don't have to leave."

Stefan shot Elena a look that Damon didn't care for. Not at all. Why the fuck would Stefan be angry at _her_? She was the one kind enough to still give him the time of day after what he'd done! She was the one offering him another chance! A chance, he didn't deserve as far as Damon was concerned. So who the hell was he to pin her down with a dirty look like that? To no doubt make her feel terrible?

"I'm not staying here with him and−" he gave her a once-over. "−_you_."

Damon took a threatening step towards his brother, but when her tiny hand found his again, he found himself coming to a full stop.

"He can't come in here−" Damon growled. "−and treat you like this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not!"

"If you two don't mind, I'd like to pack without the voice-overs."

"We do mind!" Damon snarled. "It's Elena's house!"

"Than what are _you_ doing here?" Stefan bit back.

"She loves me!"

"She loved me once and look what that got me!" Stefan spit out. "I wouldn't be surprised if in two weeks she gets bored of you and throws you out on your ass! Maybe this is what she was after all along! The house is worth a small fortune, maybe she's just another gold digging −"

"**Finish. That. Sentence**!" Damon gnarled, hearing Elena 's breath hitch. "I beg you!"

"Haven't you done enough begging for one day."

Damon could smell Elena's cheeks fill with blood, her heart speeding up.

"Spying on us, pervert?" he snarled.

"Spying? Please, the whole town could hear you two. Especially Elena," he added, shoving another pair of pants in his bag. "Did you find that spot behind her ear yet? It drives her crazy. If you just lick it a little and use your fingers−"

Damon hadn't actually consciously decided to do what he did next, but his primal instinct, the monster inside, had had enough. Snarling, he flung forward, the window shattering as he and Stefan plummeted to the graveled driveway.

Everything after that was a blur of blood and fury, until Elena came storming out, her face distorted in anger.

"Okay, that's it!" She screamed. "Both of you, stop it, right now!"

If anyone had been looking at the scene in front of The Boarding House at that very moment, they would've been baffled. After all, how in the hell could a little girl make two monsters stop fighting with just a mere scream?

"Now," she snapped, her voice tight. "This ends tonight!"

"Sweetheart−" Damon started, his voice still rough.

"No, don't _Sweetheart_ me, Salvatore!"

Stefan laughed weakly.

"And what are _you_ laughing about?" Elena snapped, turning her anger on Stefan. "What about this is funny? You two are brothers! Why can't you both just act like it?"

"We haven't been brothers in a long−"

"Oh, bullshit!" Elena interrupted Damon. "I have a brother, too, remember! Jeremy can drive me nuts and he's only been in my life for sixteen years, so I can only imagine what it would be like to have him around for centuries! I would need a few decades of space, too every now and then! And I know things have happened between the both of you that will need a lot of time to heal. Katherine. The Ripper. Your father. I get it. But that doesn't change the fact that you're still brothers!"

"I was hoping a stake through the heart _would_ change that," Damon snarled.

"Then why haven't you killed him, yet?" Elena asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm getting around to it."

"No, you're not," Elena stated matter-of-factly. "You love him."

Damon snorted.

"You do, Damon. You won't admit it, but you do. And Stefan loves you. Deep down, you two know that. And nothing can change it. Not even me," she trailed off, her voice softer when she added, "I know I caused a rift between the both of you−"

Damon's face softened. "Elena−"

"−and I hate it. I don't want to be another Katherine."

"You're nothing like Katherine." It was Stefan's turn to speak and Damon could tell he was calming down, like him.

"You're right. I'm not. Katherine thrived on playing you two," Elena said confidently. "But me, I _hate_ what I did to you, Stefan. I wish I'd met Damon before you. I wish I'd never had to put you through what I put you through. I wish we could've met later and become friends. But I realize that's not in our near future, so all I can do is apologize. And tell you that you will get over this. You will find someone who you'll love as much as I love Damon."

"I loved _you_," he said, making it very hard for Damon to not slam his fist into his baby brother's face again.

"No, you didn't," Elena said very calmly. "I know you think you loved me, like I thought I loved you, but I never loved anyone until I loved Damon. And one day, you'll understand that and I hope that when you do, you won't just forgive me. You'll forgive your brother, too. Because whether you two want to admit it or not, you need each other. That's why you keep coming back to one another. You're family."

When neither Stefan nor Damon reacted, Elena continued, "Now, can we please say goodbye in a way that won't kill every future possibility of a ceasefire?"

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Damon and Stefan just stared at the ground, their brows pulled down in a frown.

"Jesus," Elena mumbled. "And you say I'm stubborn! Seriously, I'm not asking that you two hug it out, but−"

"I'm going to Italy," Stefan cut her off, shooting his brother a sideway glance.

"Same place?" Damon asked, his hands shoved in his jeans.

"Yes."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"Try not to get killed like the last time."

"That was your fault."

"Still."

Another long silence, until Stefan turned to Elena to say, "I'll come back for the bag. At some point."

"I really hope you do."

"And I'm sorry. For what I said. And did."

She nodded, smiling weakly and with that, he walked away without looking back.

"You know you saved his ass, right?" Damon rumbled as they sat down on the couch, the fire crackling cozily.

Elena just kissed his collarbone, scooting closer to him. "Give it up, Damon. I know you'd die for him."

"There's only one person I'd die for," he said, giving her a pointed look. "And it's not that idiot."

Smiling knowingly, she sighed, laying down so her head rested in his lap.

"Whatever you say, Salvatore," she sang as he gazed down into her brown eyes, his fingers sifting through her hair. "All I know is that I'd die for my brother any day and you can't tell me you wouldn't do the exact same thing for yours."

* * *

**Present day**

"He has Jeremy."

Bonnie didn't know how much time had passed since they'd discovered Elena had died, but she _did_ know that during that time, Damon hadn't moved, hadn't blinked, hadn't spoken. The vampire had just shut down.

Until now.

"What?" Bonnie croaked, his words seeping through the haze of grief that was clouding her mind.

"He has Jeremy," Damon repeated, this time underlining his words by finally getting up from the couch.

"Why would you say that?" Caroline asked, ungluing her face from Tyler's chest. The werewolf's shirt was soaked with tick, salty tears.

"She never would've just given up," Damon said, no trace of emotion in his voice. "She wouldn't just go and get herself killed for no reason. As far as I know, she only had a few people she'd die for. All are in this room but two. Jenna was home before Alaric and I went out. That leaves−"

"Jeremy," Bonnie panicked, pulling out her cellphone. "Hertz has Jeremy?"

Holding her breath, Bonnie waited for the younger Gilbert to pick up, to chime _hey Bonnie_ in that way only he could. Any second now….

"Voicemail," she whimpered when the soft beeps were replaced by an automatic voice. "He never lets it go to voicemail. Not with me. Oh God, Hertz has Jeremy!"

"Not for long," Damon said, picking up the crystal and shoving it in Bonnie's hands. "That leather bracelet you're wearing, it's clearly his or he made it for you. Either way, it's a personal item. Find him. In the meantime, I'll get something from Hertz. I still have one or two things from our time together."

"Don't we find Hertz if we find Jeremy?" Alaric asked, following his friend into his room.

He'd never been in Damon's room before and it was nothing like he'd imagined. Then again, it clearly wasn't just Damon's room. Not anymore. Jewels were left randomly on the left nightstand, Elena's nightstand, amidst a clutter of bobby pins and sparkling hair clasps. On their dresser, that looked new, stood an open bottle of lotion that was no doubt Elena's too and pretty framed pictures decorated the mantelpiece, pictures of Damon and Elena, mostly self-portraits of the two smiling, kissing.

"We can't know that for sure," Damon said, his voice measured as he dug through a chest that stood in the corner of the room and was filled to the nook with weapons. "And we need to know for sure to determine our strategy."

"Our strategy?"

"If Jeremy's with Hertz, I'm going in with Bonnie, Caroline and Tyler whilst the humans, meaning you and Matt, stay clear," Damon explained calmly. "If Hertz isn't anywhere near the boy, you and Matt can get him out and Tyler, Caroline, Bonnie and I go to track down Hertz."

"Why not get Jeremy first and−"

"No time," he said, throwing a crossbow and arrows on the floor. "The longer we wait, the more chance Jeremy will get hurt. And I already lost her. I'm not losing her brother, too. She wouldn't be pleased with me if I did."

"Damon−" Alaric said, his voice worried. Here stood a man who'd just lost his fiancée, the love of his eternal life and the man had a plan. The man had a strategy. What the man didn't have, however, was any trace of emotion. He hadn't cried. He hadn't screamed. He hadn't done anything that could be considered even remotely normal. He'd just _strategized_.

"And we can't waste time with Hertz either," Damon said in a composed voice, ignoring Alaric. "When the seal on the house broke, the sun was up which means Hertz handed her over to whoever employed him right before sunrise and he doesn't have a daylight ring. So, if the drop-off spot wasn't near his house, there's a good chance we'll find him at or close to where she is."

"Damon," Alaric tried again, that cool, cold man in front of him freaking him out. The vampire needed to snap out of this…shock? Denial? Whatever it was, he needed to understand, truly grasp, what was going on before he dived into what was probably going to be the fight of his life.

So, even though the words barely made it past his lips, Alaric whispered, "Damon, you do realize Elena's dead? You realize you're not going out to save her, right?"

"Oh, I know," Damon nodded, pulling a large sword from the bottom of the chest. "But I can avenge her. And take her body home, to her family. It's what she would've wanted."

"Take her body−" Alaric trailed off, appalled. He was talking about Elena like she was nothing, like he'd never loved her with all his heart, with all his soul like Alaric knew he had. Uttering these words should've killed him, would've killed him _before._ So why didn't they now?

"Damon, mate, do you hear yourself?" Alaric asked, trying to pull Damon's gaze away from the long, metal blade. "Do you actually understand what you're saying?"

"Yes, she's dead."

That's when Alaric noticed something. Something small, but it was something. "Elena."

"Yeah," Damon said, closing the heavy wooden lid of the chest with a loud thump. "She−"

"No," Alaric cut him off, taking a step closer to his friend, capturing his eyes. "Elena."

Damon frowned.

"Say her name, Damon," Alaric whispered, watching him closely. "Not _her _or _she_. Say her name."

Damon just stared back at him, trying to stare him down, trying to make Alaric back off, but he kept his brown eyes glued to Damon's black ones, searching, hoping. And then, after a long minute, he saw it. Just a mere flicker of what was going on inside, just a little window to his soul and what Alaric saw there crippled him. Never had he seen such agony, such desperation, such hate in one mere second.

That's when he understood. Damon had flipped some sort of switch to deal, to get by.

To get things done that needed to be done.

To make Hertz pay.

To save the brother she'd died for.

To take Elena home.

And after that, when there was nothing left to do, Alaric wasn't sure what would become of Damon.

But he feared the worst.

"That's Hertz'?" Alaric asked, nodding at the sword, making the decision to just go where Damon led.

"Yes."

"Okay then. Let's go see how Bonnie's doing with Jeremy and get that sword to her so we can find Hertz and Elena and get this over with."

* * *

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"Yeah," Bonnie answered Caroline. "This is it."

"It's not really what I expected to find."

The three of them carefully glanced at Damon. The vampire hadn't said a word since he'd read Alaric's text that said Jeremy was safe and sound at home again. Hertz hadn't even bothered with guards. After all, who was stupid enough to cross him?

Well…_they _were apparently. In fact, that's exactly what they were doing, in the middle of nowhere, miles outside of Mystic Falls, staring at a villa that stood abandoned in the center of the darkest woods Bonnie had ever seen.

"Now what?" Tyler asked.

Damon answered by kicking open the iron gate that separated them from the driveway and stormed up to the house.

"Damon!" Bonnie yelled behind him, trying to keep up with his mad pace. "You can't just go in blind! We need a plan!"

"I have a plan!" he yelled back and Bonnie could tell by his voice his plan involved a lot of blood and death.

"Damon, you might not even get in!" Bonnie tried again when they reached the house. "If this place is owned by a human, you won't be able to−"

A loud _bang_ cut her off. The front door flew off its hinges underneath the vampire's foot and Damon disappeared inside.

"Okay," she mumbled under her breath. "Never mind."

When Bonnie entered, her heart stopped. The floor was already scattered with bodies. Human, male bodies.

"Damon, what−"

"They had Vervain in their system," Damon explained, his hands clutched by his thighs, his eyes never ceasing to scan the room. "They're protecting whoever killed her by choice. So I chose to kill them."

Bonnie's heart thundered in her chest, staring at the vampire whose control was clearly slipping.

"Oh, my God," Caroline mumbled when she entered the room with Tyler by her side.

"You, check out upstairs," Damon ordered Bonnie, ignoring their horrorstruck faces. "Caroline, go left. Tyler, check out the basement! If any of you find Hertz or whoever is behind this, don't engage. Get out and get me. They're mine."

"Damon, did you actually kill−" Tyler grabbed Caroline's arm, shaking his head. He understood Damon was holding on to his sanity by an inch now that they were so close to their goal, so close to Elena and he didn't want Caroline to push him over an edge. She might end up on the floor with the others if she did.

The three of them scattered in the directions Damon had given them, leaving the vampire standing alone.

Slowly, Damon made his way through the hallway, heading right. His shoes made a tapping sound on the marble, the sound breaking the eerie silence that hung in the house.

As Damon passed door after door, he kept his darkening gaze on the double doors at the very end of the hall. He didn't know why he was drawn there, why something inside pulled him towards it. All he knew was that he _had_ to get there.

And yet, something else inside told him to go. To turn around and leave. He didn't want to see what was behind those doors. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

The clacking of his shoes stopped.

His palm pressed down on the doors.

The wood creaked open, revealing an immense room with shiny wooden floors, sparkling chandeliers and giant, cast iron windows that let the last traces of sunlight stream in freely.

But Damon didn't see any of that.

All he saw was the girl in the middle of the room.

The girl lying in a streak of sun.

The girl who's beautiful neck was twisted in a way that made his stomach turn.

Her enchanting brown eyes were glazed over, the fire, the soul inside them, completely gone.

His knees gave in.

His body crashed down.

And his mind went somewhere else.

"_OK," Damon yelled, smiling as he entered The Boarding House, a grocery bag under his arm. "Next time, you come with me to that store or people will get killed! Seriously, I understand that humans don't have eternity, but just a tiny bit of patience, people!"_

"_Elena?" he yelled as he put the groceries down on the kitchen counter. "Where are you, Love?"_

_No response. _

_Frowning, Damon walked back to the center of the house, the living room, screaming again with a lot less joy in his voice, "Elena?" _

_Nothing._

"_Love, if this is some game, I don't like−" _

_That's when he noticed the broken lamp._

_That's when he noticed the blood._

_That's when pure panic took over and only one word echoed through his mind over and over again._

_Hertz._

"_Elena!" he screamed, following the tiny red drops all the way up the stairs. _

_All he could think about was what he was going to find when the drops stopped. Countless images of a lifeless Elena crippled him, destroyed everything he was. If she was dead… _

_His hand trembling, sleek with sweat, he placed his palm on the already cracked wooden door to their bedroom and pushed._

_He was greeted by the sight of the girl he loved dancing around in one of the black negligees he'd bought her, headphones in her ears, a bandage wrapped around her tiny, beautiful hand. _

_Breathing in deeply, he leaned against the doorframe, placing a hand on his chest. It didn't matter that he didn't actually breath or had a heartbeat, the feeling of loss that had taken over him when he'd thought she was dead had actually maimed him. Destroyed him. _

_Elena danced around in a half circle and finally saw him. She smiled widely, her sparkling eyes greeting him…until she actually saw him. And from the way her lips dropped, Damon could tell the horror he'd felt earlier was still written all over his face. _

_Her big Bambi eyes found her injured hand, then flickered back to him and Damon could see she knew exactly what she'd put him through. _

_Softly shaking her head, Elena threw her IPod on their bed and stalked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tight, comforting him._

"_I'm sorry," she whispered as he dug his fingers in her back, holding her in a way he knew would hurt her. And yet, he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't let go._

"_I was dancing," she whispered, still pressed to him. "I knocked over a lamp, cut myself trying to pick up the pieces. I came up here for a bandage and I forgot to clean up the mess. I'm so sorry, Damon."_

_Damon just tightened his grip on her._

"_I'm OK," Elena whispered, her fingers playing with the strand of hair in his neck. She knew that always calmed him. "I'm more than OK. I'm here. With you. I'm happy. And I'm not planning on going anywhere, do you hear me? You're stuck with me. Forever."_

"_Promise me," he grated out, hearing the desperation in his deep voice. _

_Pulling back from him just enough so her face was right in front of his, she whispered, "Off course, I promise, Damon."_

_Overwhelmed by her intoxicating smell, he buried his nose in her hair and whispered, "Don't you ever scare me like that again."_

_Smiling weakly, Elena touched her forehead to his and whispered. "Never."_

_She kissed him, desperately, deeply. He loved it when she did that, when she let him feel how much she wanted him, needed him._

"Damon!"

_Damon frowned, his tongue still caressing Elena's. So, it couldn't have been her screaming his name. _

_Elena's hands fisted his shirt, pulling him closer to her soft curbs, making him growl in her mouth._

"Damon!"

_He ignored the pleading voice, pushing Elena back until she was on his bed, the hem of the negligee ridden up to her belly._

"_I love you, Gilbert," he rumbled, crouching over her, pushing her legs apart._

_She smiled, entangling her fingers in his hair. "I love you more, Salvatore."_

"Damon!" Bonnie screamed again.

The vampire didn't react. Not at all. He just sat there, on his knees, staring at Elena.

"Bonnie," Caroline sobbed from beside their friend's body. "He doesn't hear you! Just stop!"

Tyler sat beside the blond, rubbing her back, tears in his own eyes, too.

"Oh, God," Caroline cried against the werewolf's chest. "She's actually dead."

"I know," Tyler whispered, his heart aching. "But Bonnie's right, Care. We have to get out of here. The sun is down and whoever did this is bound to show up any minute. We have to go," he turned his gaze to Damon. "All of us."

"Damon!" Bonnie screamed again, this time shaking the vampire's shoulders too. "Come on, Damon! Snap out of it! We have to move! We have to−"

The echo of heels touching marble cut her off, made her face the open wooden doors, peering inside the huge hallway.

"Someone's coming," she whispered, stating the obvious. "Hide."

"Hide where?" Tyler whispered back, peering around the room. "There's nothing to hide behind."

"Then we fight!" Caroline snarled, getting up, black veins popping up around her eyes. "Whoever that is killed Elena, killed our friend! I say we fight!"

"I agree," Tyler growled.

"Okay," Bonnie nodded, Caroline and Tyler flanking her. "We fight. It's not like we're totally defenseless. A vampire, a werewolf and a witch should be able to put up a−"

And then they saw her.

Their hearts leaped for a small second, thinking they'd been wrong. Elena was fine. Elena was right there!

But that wasn't possible. Was it?

Frowning, Bonnie looked over her shoulder, hoping against all hope Elena's body was no longer there, that they'd just imagined it. But she was still laying on that floor with Damon's gaze still glued to her.

"We're all seeing this, right?" Caroline asked, doubting her mental state.

"Yeah," Tyler said. "We're all seeing her."

They knew they should move, run, attack, do anything, but all they could do was stare. The resemblance was striking. It wasn't even a resemblance, really. They were identical.

"Who the hell are _you_?" Tyler growled when she stopped right in front of them. Her face was cold and arrogant and it was strange to see Elena's face like that. It seemed _wrong_.

"Well, that seems like something you should know, doesn't it?" she chimed, twirling her hair. "Before you burst in here and kill my guards."

There was a dangerous glint in her eyes that chilled Bonnie to the bone. She'd never been scared of Elena before. But then again, this woman clearly wasn't Elena.

"My name," she continued, tipping her head to the side. "is−"

"Katherine?"

Bonnie jumped at Damon's voice and if she was seeing things right, Katherine hadn't noticed the vampire, either. Tyler had blocked him from her view.

Until now.

Finally, Damon had gotten up and what Bonnie saw in his eyes terrified her to her very core. Never had she seen such pure, undiluted hate. Luckily, though, every ounce of it seemed directed at _her._

"Damon," she sighed, a sad smile on her red lips. "This is unfortunate."

"Bonnie, Tyler, Caroline," Damon growled in a way Bonnie had never heard him growl before. "Get out."

"Bonnie, Tyler, Caroline," Katherine parroted. "Stay."

Fuming, Damon pushed past Bonnie and Tyler until he stood right in front of Katherine.

"You did this?" Damon hissed, his fangs pushing out of his mouth. "You killed−"

He paused and for some reason, that pause made Bonnie's heart break.

"−Elena?" he finished. For the first time, Bonnie could hear the pain, the grief in the vampire's voice. He'd given up on being strong. She wasn't sure _now_ was the best time to do so, though.

"Yes," Katherine sang, sighing dramatically. "But in my defense, you weren't supposed to find out. I was going to dump her body in the woods and−"

A blond blur shot past Damon and before he could stop her, Caroline was on Katherine. Not for long, though. The blond was flung halfway across the room before she'd even gotten her first hit in and stayed there, limp.

Tyler growled violently, kicking Katherine in the gut with all the force his werewolf genes had blessed him with. She flew back against the wall, but Katherine recovered fast and by the time Tyler had reached her, she was already ready for him again. Snarling, Katherine grabbed his neck keeping his teeth far from her body and slammed his head into the brick wall until he stopped moving.

Damon could still hear a heartbeat, though. He would recover.

"Is this all you've got?" Katherine laughed, walking over to them in that way Damon used to love. How could he ever have cared for this woman? This cruel, violent monster?

"A newbie vamp," she continued, ticking them off on her fingers. "A class B werewolf and−" she ran her eyes over Bonnie. "−whatever _that_ is."

"Why, Katherine?" Damon rumbled, shaking his head. "Why would you want to hurt Elena?"

"I care about you, Damon," Katherine sang, running her fingers over his cheek.

Hatred flaring in his eyes, Damon backed away, disgusted.

"First she got her unmanicured claws into Stefan," Katherine continued, clearly offended by his refusal. "Then you. And you both fell for it. It was pathetic, beneath you. So I decided to help you out."

"By killing her?" he snarled, taking a threatening step forward.

"Come on, sweetheart," she sang, reaching out for him again.

His eyes turning pitch black then as he slapped her hand away and wrapped his fingers around her neck, deep growls emanating from his chest. "The only reason you're still alive is because you look like her," he spit out, his grip tightening. "But I'll get over that in a minute!"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed against his chest, releasing herself from Damon's grip and turning her attention to the witch who was now mumbling Latin under her breath.

"Ah," Katherine sang, her hands on her hips. "A Bennett witch."

Bonnie frowned, but kept the spell going.

"Don't bother," Katherine snickered. "I've known a few Bennetts over the centuries and they taught me some nifty little tricks. Like how not to get my head blown off by someone like you."

Before Bonnie had the chance to react, she was thrown across the room until she landed right next to Elena, blood pooling underneath her raven hair.

Dazed, Damon took a look around. Everyone was unconscious. Bonnie was dying and _she_ was dead.

_Elena_ was dead, staring at him with that vacant look.

And it was all because of her.

Fuming, he turned back to the reason he'd lost everything. To the reason he was utterly alone. And then, his instincts took over. He didn't even realize what he was doing. All he knew was that he was fighting Katherine. And fighting well. He never would've been able to do this much damage to her before, without the anger that was coursing through his veins. Without the pure hate. Or _with _the instinct for self-preservation still intact, holding him back. After all, why in the hell would he want to preserve himself now…without her. He didn't care whether he lived or died. He just hoped he could take that monster with Elena's angelic face down with him.

Something sharp pierced his gut.

A stake.

It wasn't fatal, but he still hesitated in his attack, just long enough for Katherine to regain the upper hand.

Suddenly, he was on his back with Katherine straddling him and the tip of the stake now resting right above his heart.

"It doesn't have to end this way, my sweet Damon," she whispered, leaning down until her lips caressed his. Her touch sickened him, but no matter how hard he struggled, she had him pinned down.

"We can still have it all," she moaned, grinding her hips over him in a way that made him want to reach up and rip her heart out. "Isn't this what you wanted? To find me? To have me in your arms again?"

"All I wanted," Damon growled, glaring at her. "All I _ever _wanted, was Elena."

In an instant, her face changed from flirtatious to stone cold. "Fine," she hissed. "Have it your way, then!"

Her eyes went black, her arm flew up, gaining force before the stake plunged down.

Damon prepared for the pain, welcoming the end…that never came.

"**Get. Away. From. Him!**" a voice that brought him back to life hissed, her tiny hand on Katherine's arm, stopping the stake mid-air.

Her foot kicked Katherine's side, flinging her off him like she was nothing, freeing Damon. And yet, he didn't get up. He just laid there, staring up at her, his mind trying to proces what he was seeing.

"Hey," Elena sang, smiling weakly, that fire back in her eyes.

His mind racing then, he jumped up and grabbed her, pressing her to him, his nails digging into her back, his tears trickling down on her hair. Desperately, he breathed in, her scent immediately filling him, raging in him, replacing every dark feeling that had consumed him since he'd known she'd died.

"Am I dead?" he asked, convinced he'd died and gone to heaven. With her.

"Technically, yes," she sobbed, a few snickers replacing the soft sobs. "But then again, so am I."

_What?_

Startled, he pulled back. He'd been so overjoyed to see her before that he hadn't noticed her eyes were black now. Or that there was a scent of blood still lingering on her lips.

Putting two and two together, he stared over her shoulder and found a healed Bonnie sitting up beside a puddle of her blood that had clearly been disturbed.

By Elena.

She'd had human blood.

She'd fed.

She was a vampire.

"How−"

"I don't know," Elena cut him off, fisting his shirt. "Did you ever feed me your blood?"

He shook his head. "No!"

"I would understand if you were worried and slipped it in my coffee or something just in case−"

Damon cupped her cheek, his heart leaping. A few seconds ago, he'd never dared to imagine he would hold her like this again, hadn't dared to dream he'd ever feel her soft skin underneath his. "I didn't do that. You wanted to wait and I respected it."

"Then how could this happen?"

"No clue," he whispered, wiping a strand of hair from her cheek. "But how much would you hate me if I said, I'm glad it did."

Elena smiled, a tear trickling over her lips. "I could never hate you. I love you."

She stood up on her tiptoes, claiming his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him in a way she never had before.

Was _this_ how Damon had experienced kissing her all along? If so, she understood why it always seemed sheer torture for him to _just_ kiss her, why he always wanted to take it further, no matter where there were. As a vampire, his lips against hers felt like melted chocolate, setting every fiber of her being on fire, awakening things inside of her she didn't even know were there. Everything was screaming for her to take him, to push him against the wall and have her wicked way with him. And she would've listened if it wasn't for the fact that suddenly, Damon's touch disappeared and she was lying on her back, gasping for air. Her body wasn't yet used to the fact that she didn't need oxygen, so her lungs thought they needed to draw it in anyway.

"Elena−" Damon barked, stepping between her and Katherine. "Take your friends and get out."

"No."

"Elena," he pleaded, shooting her a desperate look. "Please."

She knew why he was pushing the matter. She knew that stopping Katherine before had been a lucky shot. She was older than Damon and her combined, which meant she was double as strong, too. They didn't stand a chance. But she'd be damned if she was going to let Damon sacrifice himself. Plus, she didn't think she could actually physically walk away. That monster Damon always talked about, that monster that he claimed was always present inside, was now in her. She could feel it and it craved a fight with the bitch who hadn't just killed her, but was threatening to kill the man she loved, too. The man who she loved even more now, if that was even possible. Everything was just heightened.

Love.

Lust.

Hate.

Anger.

"I'm not leaving," Elena whispered, jumping up in a way that would've been a lot less graceful in her human days.

"Love−"

"I said no, Damon," she said, confidently, grabbing his hand. "Besides, I'm kind of looking forward to kicking her ass."

"Good luck with that," Katherine snapped, her face vamped out.

Damon's muscles tensed and instinctively, Elena's body tensed too. In places she'd never tensed before. She even had muscles were she'd never had muscles before. Her entire body was different, stronger, a weapon and she was going to point it right at that Pierce-bitch.

For the first time, Elena snarled. It was a strange sound, but it was somehow fitting. It still sounded like her, just _fiercer_.

Katherine was the first to move. Damon and Elena did the same a split second later. But before they had the chance to throw the first punch, Katherine was screaming.

For a moment, Elena thought Caroline had finally woken up and joined the fight. But it wasn't _Caroline's_ blond hair that had zoomed past. And it weren't _Caroline's _fangs sinking into Katherine's neck.

"No!" Katherine screamed when Hertz finally released her. "What did you do!"

Elena could tell by the sheer panic in her eyes that Katherine knew exactly what a bite from Hertz did. She knew what he'd just condemned her to. Elena knew, too. She'd been through it. Katherine was in for hell on earth.

"She doesn't taste like you," Hertz said to Elena, ignoring Katherine. "If you were wondering."

"You son of a−"

Elena put a hand on Damon's chest, stopping him from attacking Hertz. Clearly, the vampire was on their side. For the moment.

"What are you doing here?" Elena asked, a swirl of emotions roaming around inside.

Hate.

Gratitude.

Confusion.

"I was in the tunnels−"

"Hiding like a coward," Damon mumbled.

"−and I heard you," Hertz continued, ignoring Damon. "I figured you needed some help."

"She needed help because of you!" Damon gnarled. "You handed her over to Katherine!"

"And it turned out fine!"

"But you didn't know that!"

"Did you?" Elena didn't know why she'd asked the question. Maybe it was the way his eyes had lit up at Damon's accusation. It were his eyes that also answered her question. "You did. You knew."

"You," Damon growled, realizing the truth, too. "It was _your_ blood."

Hertz smiled. "Yes, it was."

"But, how is that possible? The last time I had your blood was over three months ago!" Elena snapped. "When Damon fed it to me to save me! Last time I checked, a vampire's blood passes out of a human's system in a month or so!"

"My blood lingers a lot longer in human tissue than a regular vampire's blood. I learned that with Abigail. See, I never planned on turning her into a vampire. After feeding her my blood to save her from the coma, she was a little _upset_ with me. I tried to earn back her trust, but it was pretty pointless. She kept trying to kill me, over and over again. She never succeeded, obviously. I was much stronger. But she did get in the way of hunting and living my eternal life in peace. So, after yet another weak attempt on my life, I snapped. Her neck."

"And she came back," Elena said.

"Yes. And it had been over seven months since she'd woken up."

"So, we're supposed to thank you now?" Damon snarled, pushing Elena behind his back as a way of protecting her from Hertz.

"Well, I'm not asking for a parade, but−"

"You didn't know how Katherine was going to kill her!" Damon growled, glaring at him. "You got lucky that she broke her neck, but if she'd ripped Elena's heart out or tore her head of completely, she wouldn't be here, would she! No blood could've fixed that! So don't stand there like you saved the day, Hertz!"

"Maybe not," Hertz growled back. "But I saved it now. And as an added bonus, I'll give our Elena the opportunity to decide her killer's faith."

Elena didn't know why that made her smile. A few hours ago, deciding whether someone lived or died wouldn't have appealed to her in the least. But now, that monster inside her roared.

"You're joking, right?" Katherine hissed from at Hertz' feet. "There's no decision to make! You're saving me, Hertz or−"

"Or what?" the vampire hissed, crouching down until his face was right in front of hers. Every hint of lightness or humanity had left his voice, his eyes as he stared at her. "You don't hold the cards anymore, sweetheart. You took my wife. You threatened to hurt her. You blackmailed me. No one does that and gets away with it. **I'm fucking Alexander Hertz!**"

His voice still boomed off the arched ceiling as Hertz stood back up, straightening his suit. "So," he said, calm again. "Elena, it's up to you. I can cure her, set her free _or_ I can let her sink into a coma. Just so you know, I prefer the latter."

"So do I," Damon agreed, his thumb running tiny circles over the back of Elena's hand.

"This is ridiculous!" Katherine gnarled, getting up. "You can't just let some girl−"

"Be careful," Elena said in a new, threatening voice. The coldness in it took Katherine by surprise, too.

"Fine, here's the thing, Elena," Katherine continued, kinder. "I swear I will never come near you or your precious Damon again, okay. You'll never see me again. I give you my word. Just tell Hertz to feed me his blood and you'll be rid of me."

"Oh, come on," Damon gnarled. "Elena, don't−"

"How stupid do you think I am?" Elena cut him off, shooting Katherine an incredulous look. "Do you honestly think I believe one word coming out of your mouth?"

"Elena," Katherine tried.

"No," Elena hissed, that feeling of immense, supernatural power bringing her confidence up to a whole new level. "Don't even try, Katherine. It's really pointless. You killed me. You hurt my friends. You hurt Damon. Not to mention you're the evil bitch that ripped the Salvatores apart centuries ago. There's no way in hell I'm letting you walk out of here!"

"So you're just going to let me die?"

"Die?" Elena smiled in a way she'd never smiled before. "No. But you _are_ going away for a while. Asleep. Well, not exactly, but you'll see what I mean."

"You can't do this!" Katherine yelled.

"Oh, I think she can," Damon said, watching Elena. He loved her like this. Confident. Then again, he loved her every which way.

"Tell you what," Elena continued. "In a century, we'll wake you up, reevaluate, because trust me, you're going to have a lot of time to think about what you did to end up in the dark. And when I see a genuine change, maybe I'll reconsider."

"A century?" Katherine hissed.

"Keep up that attitude and we'll make it two."

"If you live that long!"

"Well, I hope for you that we do," Elena said, shutting her up. "So, Hertz, you'll stay with her until she _falls asleep_," she made quotation marks in the air when she said the latter. "And then you'll move her to a safe place you'll only tell us about."

"Deal," Hertz boomed, grabbing Katherine.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Katherine screamed as Hertz dragged her out of the room. "You'll pay for this, Gilbert! I'll make you pay for this!"

"Two centuries it is!" Elena yelled back, sighing dramatically as the doors closed on the both of them.

"Was that too cruel?" Elena asked, turning in Damon's embrace.

"I would've snapped her neck."

"That would've been kinder."

And there it was. Regret. Damon knew it was coming. After all, Elena was kind, caring and being a vampire would only heighten those qualities.

"Hey," Damon whispered, caressing her cheek. "She deserved that. She killed you, sweetness. She's even the reason _you _were trapped in that darkness. And that's only what she did to you. You have no idea how cruel she is, what she's done over the centuries. You have no idea how many lives you're saving by taking her out of the world. Plus, you're even offering her a second chance. In time."

"So, you don't think I'm an evil bitch?" she said, her voice playful again. "You still love me?"

Damon smiled, putting his forehead to hers as he whispered against her lips. "Forever."

"Forever," Elena sang back, kissing the corner of his lips teasingly before moaning. "That sounds perfect."

His lips took control of hers then, his hands roaming over her body, her hands doing the same. They were lost in each other for the longest time, until Elena suddenly pulled back.

"What?" Damon asked, confused. She didn't need to breath. There was no reason for them to stop. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Elena said, blushing a little as she bit her lip.

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing, it's just that-" her eyes turned black again. "I'm hungry."

Damon just smiled at that before grabbing her hand and leading her out into the night. The night they would share for all of eternity. Together.

* * *

**HEY GUYS,**

**Ok, so, it's decided: after your amazing reviews and PM's THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE! In fact, the truth is, there was always going to be one :p! I even wanted to glue it to my last chapter, BUT, I'm leaving on a holiday today and I was running out of time, so it was either wait until the 26th (when I return) with the whole thing or post this chapter now and add an epilogue later!  
So, I'm leaving and I'm forbidden to take my laptop with me :-(! That being said, no one said anything about pen and paper, so I'll be working on it and when I get back, all I'll have to do is type it out! I hope you can wait :p! Thanks for your support and enthusiasm, guys! And until the 26th/27th!**

**xxx LustAndLove  
ps: for those who haven't reviewed: PLEASE DO!**


	24. Epilogue: a little down the road

_**Epilogue: A little down the road.**_

"This is a dumb idea."

Carlo sat in the passenger's seat, wringing his hands, his black hair just long enough for it to hang seductively over his blue eyes. He was the kind of guy who could have every girl in Venice and yet, the one girl he'd set his eyes on had turned out to be the one girl he shouldn't even have been looking at. Not only was she married, she was married to the head of the most powerful, wealthy family in all of Italy. That should've been enough for anyone to back off. And yet, he found himself unable to stop staring at her whenever she sat down next to him in class, unable to stop flirting with her whenever they talked. Maybe it was the fact that she was the one girl who never flirted back, the one girl who didn't swoon over him, that made her so intriguing. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was extraordinarily beautiful. And kind. Even though she wasn't interested in Carlo, she was always nice to him. Everyone liked her from the moment she'd come to l'Università Ca' Foscari di Venezia two years ago. There was just something about her. Something warm. Something irresistible.

"Come on, Carlo," Dante, his best friend, sighed. "We've been over this. She invited our entire class to celebrate the end of the school year and you not going would be pretty obvious."

Carlo rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, let's not pretend you're doing this for my sake. We both know you just always wanted to go to that house."

"Who wouldn't!" Dante exclaimed, giving up on the pretense. "Have you _seen_ that house? I've been dreaming about getting in there for years! And you know the grub is going to be amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I hope you don't lose your appetite when her husband murders me."

"I won't."

Carlo started to smile, until Dante turned a corner and the famous, eighteen thousand square foot grand romantic estate came into view.

"Man, I wish I was rich."

Carlo ignored Dante, his heart racing as they drove through the private gates and ascended the long cobblestone driveway. A driveway that was already outlined with the most beautiful, expensive cars. Clearly, the guest list included more than just high school students.

"This is going to be epic," Dante sang, nudging Carlo towards the open, massive dual twenty foot high Murano glass doors.

"Holy−"Carlo whispered as they entered the astonishing foyer. The marble shined underneath Carlo's shoes while he looked up, staring at the exquisite fresco covering the arched ceiling.

"You came!"

Her angelic voice made Carlo's eyes snap from one work of art, to another, to the brunette girl who was hugging Dante. Now, at school, Elena Salvatore always wore jeans and a shirt and even in something as simple as that she looked irresistible. But today, she didn't just look irresistible. She looked impossible. How could anyone be that beautiful? And the red, spaghetti strap, sweetheart dress she was wearing didn't help his cause, which was being distant, yet nice and never flirtatious or drooling in any way. He was just a friend. She was just a girl. A gorgeous girl whose brown eyes were sparkling and who spoke Italian sexier than any native girl he'd ever met.

"Carlo," she sang, walking over to him. "Hey!"

"Hey."

She reached him and before he could stop himself, he was pressing a kiss to her cheek. God, she smelled good. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Welcome," she cheered, tucking a curl behind her ear. Carlo wondered if she'd made that move just to give him a better view on her finger, the finger that held a gold wedding ring underneath a silver one with a green stone in it and some sort of a crest. Was she subtly pointing out she was already taken?

"Elena," Dante said, cocking an eyebrow. "This place is amazing. Did you marry a prince or something?"

Elena laughed. "No, but my husband likes to think he is one."

"I heard that."

Dante and Carlo turned to face the man who'd entered behind them and if Carlo had held even the slightest of hopes he could still steal Elena away from her husband, that hope shattered the second he saw him._ That_ was her husband? _That_ was Damon Salvatore? Even as a man, he couldn't help but recognize he was handsome. Extremely handsome. And rich. Those two things alone would seriously put him behind in a potential race for her affection. But the thing that truly made him realize he didn't stand a chance, was the way Elena's eyes had lit up the second Damon had entered. It was like she came to life, like she did nothing but wait for him when he wasn't around.

"You were meant to hear," she sang when he reached her, curling an arm around her waist. Possessively. Elena clearly didn't mind, though. She leaned into him, hooking her fingers in his shirt, smiling up at him.

"Vixen," he whispered before kissing her in a way that wasn't really appropriate with Carlo and Dante standing right there.

"Did you get a hold of them?" Elena breathed when Damon released her lips.

"Yeah, they're on their way, but they'll be late. Their plane was delayed. Very delayed."

She smiled, biting her lip again. "But they're definitely coming?"

Damon smiled, cupping her cheek. "Yes, sweetness. They're coming."

Little sounds of happiness passed her lips, lips she pressed to his jaw in a way that actually made something inside Carlo pinch. Couldn't they stop touching each other, just for a little while?

"So," Damon said, kissing the top of Elena's head. "Are you going to introduce me or−"

Elena faced them again, her eyes wide. Clearly, she'd forgotten they were even there.

"Right," Elena said, shaking her head. "Sorry. Dante, Carlo, this is Damon Salvatore."

"Her husband," the man rumbled as he shook Carlo's hand.

The sideway glance from Dante told him he wasn't just being paranoid about the subtle threatening tone.

"I think they got that from the kissing and the matching last name, sweetheart," Elena said, her voice soft and yet there was a hint of a warning in it.

"I was just making it clear," Damon said before his blue eyes finally left Carlo's and moved to Dante who got a much briefer and more welcoming handshake.

"OK," Elena said when Damon wrapped his arm around her again. "There's food and drinks in the Great Room to your right and outside in the garden. If there's anything else you need, the kitchen is behind the fourth door to your left. Just pop in there and get whatever you need. Enjoy."

And with that, Elena grabbed Damon's hand and pulled him with her.

"You saw that, right?" Carlo whispered, following Dante who was already heading towards the room Elena had pointed to. "I'm not insane, right?"

Dante smiled wickedly, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair. "Nope, that man hates you."

"Thanks for the encouragement!"

"Hey," he laughed, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "That's what friends are for."

The sky outside turned from sunny to dark as Carlo watched Dante mix with the crowd, hitting on every woman he came across.

Without success.

He could see the people in the garden−or maybe field was a better word for it since it was huge− through the glass wall. With most party's the crowd diminished as time passed, but for some reason, it seemed like more and more people showed up as the night turned darker. And they got more attractive, too. Still, no one compared to the smiling brunette who stood beside the pool, the bluish light from it reflecting on her hair and flawless skin.

"I'd forget about that, kid."

Carlo nearly jumped. He hadn't even noticed the blond standing next to him, though he should've. She was hard to miss. Slim with curves in all the right places, blond hair, greenish blue eyes. In short, she was a vision. And an American. Unlike Elena, her Italian was infused with a thick, American accent . She clearly hadn't been speaking it as long as her friend.

"Excuse me?" he asked when her words seeped in.

"Elena," the blond repeated, her eyes finding the girl she was referring to for a split second. "You don't stand a chance."

"I wasn't−"

"Sure you were."

"I'm sorry," Carlo said, cocking an eyebrow. "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't give it."

His frown deepened, much to the blonde's amusement.

"I'm Caroline," she snickered, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Caroline Lockwood."

"Carlo Moretti." His eyes dropped to the hand he was shaking, to the fingers of which one held another golden ring.

"Unbelievable," he sighed, sniffing, his lips curling up in one corner.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from her glass, her bright, red lipstick leaving no mark.

"You're married."

"I know."

"Is this a new rage?" he asked, his eyes finding Elena again. "Marrying young? I mean, you and Elena, you're, what, twenty? Twenty-one? How old were you when you got married?"

Caroline laughed, her eyes sparkling for some reason. "What's age? It's just a number."

"A very low number."

Another laugh. "Yeah, well, we were both lucky enough to find our soulmates early in life."

"Very early."

"You shouldn't fixate on age so much. It says nothing about the person. Elena and I were young when we married, yes, but we weren't foolish. We didn't rush into it. We said _I do_ with our eyes and minds wide open. Granted, Elena and Damon seem like a very unlikely fit, but it's a fit none the less. They're perfect for each other. And trust me, that's not something I saw coming, it's not something I ever imagined even saying. In fact, like you, we hoped she'd find someone else. We thought he was the worst choice she could possibly make. We now see how wrong we were. So, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but they're meant to be. You don't stand a chance, kid."

He was about to comment on the fact that he wasn't a kid, that he was her age, when a muscled, tanned man came over, handing her a fresh drink.

"Thanks, honey," she sang, kissing his cheek sweetly. "This is Carlo."

"Carlo?" he repeated in a deep voice, giving him the once-over. And then, suddenly, Carlo could've sworn he saw a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes. "Oh, Carlo."

The man smiled, slapping his shoulder in a way he was sure would leave a bruise. "Nice to meet you, man. I'm Tyler Lockwood."

"My better half," Caroline sang, wrapping an arm around Tyler's waist.

"Oh no, _you _are definitely the better half," he growled.

_Actually_ growled. Like an animal or something.

"Do you both live in Venice, too?" Carlo asked, wanting to break the sexual tension he suddenly found himself standing next to.

"No," Tyler said, tearing his eyes away from his wife. "Paris. We just came out here for the occasion."

"Seriously," Carlo said, frowning. "You came all the way out here to celebrate the end of the school year?"

"Hey," Caroline sang, her voice a little higher than before. "We were all in school once. We know how much it sucks. In fact, just thinking about it makes me need another drink. Let's go get another drink." She grabbed her husband's arm and added while already walking away, "Nice to meet you, Carlo."

And with that, Carlo was left alone again.

_OK, that's it,_ he though, emptying his drink. _I've endured enough. He's seen the house. We're leaving._

Which was easier said than done. Dante wasn't in the room with him anymore.

"Son of a−" Mumbling curses under his breath, he walked back across the foyer and headed for the kitchen. The dark kitchen.

When he flipped on the light, his heart jumped. A man was sitting on the counter, a bottle of something brownish in his hand. He looked somewhat familiar, although Carlo was sure he'd never met him.

"Sorry," he said when the man blinked against the sudden burst of light.

The guy just looked at him, his green eyes piercing his.

"Did you happen to see a blond guy come through here?" he asked, trying to break the silence.

"No," he said, taking another sip from the bottle. "Then again the lights were off, so−"

"Yeah," Carlo said as the man jumped of the counter. "Why exactly were you sitting in the dark?"

"I was hiding."

"From who?"

"Damon Salvatore."

Carlo's heart skipped a beat as the man cleared his throat, turning his face away from him for a split second.

"You know Damon Salvatore?"

"Oh," the man mumbled. "I know him."

"But you don't like him?"

"And he doesn't like me."

"Why's that?"

"I had a thing with his wife, a long time ago."

That, Carlo hadn't seen coming. "Elena Salvatore cheated on her husband with you?"

"Actually, she cheated on me with him. She was still Elena Gilbert back then."

"So, shouldn't he be the one hiding from you?"

The man laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes as he ran a hand through his short, brown hair. "Maybe, but I'm more afraid of him than he is of me. The thing is, Damon Salvatore is irrational. Crazy. Especially when it comes to her. He once threw me out of a window because I looked at her wrong. He's out of his mind."

"He threw you out of a window?"

"A second story one."

"No," Carlo said, trying to smile. "You're lying."

"I wish I was."

Even though he tried to deny the truth in what he was hearing, Carlo could feel his pulse race, his mind getting frantic.

"Did you report him to the police?" Carlo asked, hearing the little tremor in his voice.

The man laughed, although it sounded more like a whimper. "Are you insane? I would've been dead before I got to the police office."

"God," Carlo whispered, shaking his head in horror. "Why is she still with him if he's such a psychopath?"

"Oh, he never hurts her. Ever. It's just us he tortures."

Off all the girl he could've chosen, he'd just had to hit on the wife of a maniac.

A maniac he was currently in the house off.

The giant, maze of a house with so many empty rooms he could get tortured and killed in.

_I have to get out of here! Now! I have to−_

"What's going on here?"

Carlo jumped, turning to face Elena who was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed on the man who put down the bottle and ran his palms over his dark jeans.

"Hey, El," he said in English, trying to smile.

Elena didn't smile back. "What are you two doing?"

Carlo cleared his throat. "We were just−"

"Oh, no," Elena said in Italian again, her voice kind as she softly squeezed his arm for a second. "Not you." Her eyes found the man again. "Them."

The man raised his chin. "I don't know what−"

"Damon?" Elena suddenly bellowed, glancing at the other entrance across from her. "Damon Francesco Salvatore, I know you're here!"

It stayed silent for another long minute and then, her husband casually strolled in.

"Oh, hi, Honey."

Elena shook her head softly, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

"Are you two _Salvatoring_ him?" she asked, her eyes switching between the two men. "Unbelievable! You are, aren't you? You two are trying to intimidate him. I swear to God," she added when the guys exchanged looks. "I liked you two better when you weren't getting along."

"I'm sorry," Carlo jumped in. "I don't get what's going on."

"They're being asses," Elena answered. "That's what's going on. Carlo, meet Stefan Salvatore. Damon's brother."

"His brother?" Carlo said as the guy gave him a little wave.

"Yup," Elena said, finding Damon's eyes again. "And apparently his new partner in crime."

"Come on, sweetness−" Damon rumbled, wiggling his eyebrows. "We were just−"

"Oh, I know what you were _just_," she said, trying to snap but not entirely pulling it off. "I swear, Stefan, I expected this from him, but you−"

"OK," Carlo interrupted, his mind still spinning. "I think it's time for me to go."

"Carlo," Elena sang. "You don't have to−"

"I really do," he said, already half way out of that kitchen. "Sorry, Elena. Thanks for inviting me and it was nice to see you again." His eyes flew to the two men. "And it was interesting meeting the both of you."

"Hey man," a familiar voice snickered as he stalked into the foyer. "Have you been upstairs? It's huge!"

Carlo barely looked at the man descending the stairs before he snapped. "We're leaving!"

"What? But−"

"Now!"

"Come on," Dante said, throwing his car in reverse and veering off the driveway. "Are you seriously telling me you didn't have fun?"

Carlo just glared at him and as they sped off into the night, the boy promised himself never to return to that place again.

* * *

"Come on, you're not still mad. You were never mad."

Elena sniffed, kicking off her heels. The last guests had finally left, except for Caroline, Tyler and Stefan who had their own rooms, and her feet were grateful.

"Sweetness−"

"Don't," she said, removing her earrings. "Don't try to sooth me. I have to see this guy in school! He's somewhat of a friend!"

"A friend who hit on you during our anniversary party."

"He didn't know it was our anniversary, did he? We told all the humans it was just an end of the school year party, so there wouldn't be any questions about our wedding and more importantly, our wedding date."

"Oh, OK," Damon laughed. "I guess it's fine then that he hit on my wife."

"He wasn't hitting on me!" Elena screamed frustrated. "Damn it, Damon, he's just a boy and you scared the crap out of him. You and Stefan."

Damon's lips curled up.

"You find that amusing?"

"No," he said, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Yes, you do!" Elena said, feeling her own lips curl up. "You arrogant, dominating−"

"Mmmmm, keep going," he growled, sliding over to her in that way that made her skin tingle. "I like it when you get all wound up."

"Shut up," Elena snickered, removing the pin from her curls. "You're not going to distract me. I'm angry."

"Sure you are."

"I am!"

"Mmmmm," he reached her, his thumb running over her jaw, his blue eyes following the trail of his fingers on her skin. A skin that was now blazing. Even after all these years, she still hadn't gotten used to her vampire senses, not when it came to the effect _he_ had on her. One small touch and she was lost. In fact, when he was around−which was pretty much always− not touching him, was literally impossible.

"Stop it," she whispered, feeling her eyes flutter shut as his fingers trailed down her neck, to the sweetheart neckline. "I'm still−"

"−angry," he finished for her as he leaned in closer. "You said that already."

She wanted to react, but before she could, his warm lips where on her neck, his tongue grazing the sensitive skin underneath.

Her fingers found his hair, entwining in it, clutching it as she fought against the pressure that was building up inside.

Roughly, Damon pushed one strap of her dress down, sucking the skin there until it hurt just right.

Elena moaned, her body arching against him.

"He deserved it, you know," he growled, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Now, even as a human, Elena was stubborn, but as a vampire, that stubbornness had reached a whole new level and it was that stubbornness that overpowered her lust and pushed him away from her.

"You son of a−"

Before she could finish, she was shoved against the window, her arms pinned over her head with one hand as his other hand found her panties, ripping them off her burning sex.

"You're mine, Elena," he growled, his nails trailing up her inner thigh, making her moan loudly. "The boy needed to learn that."

Before she'd met Damon Salvatore, Elena would've considered herself a very emancipated woman, but the truth was, in Damon arms, in his heat, she wasn't emancipated in the least. She loved his jealousy. His dominance. The way he made her obey and the way she gave in willingly.

The grip on her wrists tightened as he pushed himself between her legs and rumbled in her ear, "If he looks at you like he did when you came down those stairs again, I'll rip his eyes out."

She could feel his free hand move between them, unzipping his pants and before she could so much as moan from the friction, he was inside of her. Hard. Showing her who she belonged to. Like she could forget.

"Oh, fuck," she screamed out as he pumped himself deeper. They were still fully dressed, he'd been impatient to be inside of her, and the lace from her dress rubbed her skin sensually, tickling her ass and thighs, adding to the pleasure.

"Say you're mine, misses Salvatore," he ordered, his nails digging into her hips. "Say it."

"I'm yours," Elena breathed, her voice high. "Always. Forever. God, don't stop fucking me. I'm almost coming."

"Maybe I won't let you come this time," Damon said, biting her lip. "Maybe that's your punishment for defending the boy."

Elena shook her head frantically, throwing it back against the window that was already stained with sweat. "Please, no."

"Yeah," he growled, releasing her wrist so he could grab her ass and hold her in place as he fastened his pace. "Maybe I'll just come inside of you right now and leave you unsatisfied."

Her nails dug into his shoulders, ripping his shirt. "Don't," she begged, trying to push him back, trying to get him on their bed so she could ride him until she found her release. But he was older, stronger. She was no match. At least not physically.

"Fighting me, Love?"

Damon liked her wound up. He liked it when her cheeks turned pink, when her eyes shot fire, when she tried to resist him. It made everything more intense, hotter, if that was even possible in their lives. Even after all these years, Damon Salvatore's body and soul still reacted to her like it did on the first day and if there was one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt, it was that that would never change, not even if they lived a thousand years together. He would always and forever love that woman who was trying to glare through her haze of lust.

"You know you can't overpower me, Love," Damon breathed, slowing his rhythm down as he formed little circles inside of her, a move that he knew would drive her crazy. It kept her on the verge, but never pushed her over, just the way he wanted it. "I'm in control, Elena. I'm the one who decides whether you climax or not. Me."

And then, she whispered something that made the animal inside him roar.

"Maybe I'll just ask Carlo, then."

Before he knew what he was doing, he had her pinned down on the floor, lust and jealous raging inside of him as he stared down at her, his cock driving into her in a way human Elena wouldn't even have survived. Vampire Elena however, dug her nails into the oak floors and matched his pace with her own hips, forcing him in even deeper, harder.

And then, he felt her walls tighten and she exploded around him, her hands fisting in his hair.

That's when Damon figured out what she'd done. She knew that bringing Carlo up would drive him crazy, make him need to show her he could satisfy her.

More than a little proud, he stared down at her black eyes and that wicked smile on her plumb lips. "Misses Salvatore, you're devious."

"I learned that from my husband."

"God, I love it when you call me that."

He moved inside of her again, driving himself to his own climax. Each of his thrusts made Elena shiver and tremble underneath him, still sensitive from her own orgasm. Finally, he stiffened as he plunged deep inside her, the hot jets of his release making Elena arch up from the floor.

As Damon slowly pulled out of her, her body clenched around him, wanting to keep him buried inside.

"I love make-up sex," Elena panted as they clutched each other, their sweaty foreheads plastered together.

"That wasn't make-up sex, sweetness," Damon smiled. "That was angry sex."

"Please, I wasn't angry," Elena admitted, kissing his neck.

Damon laughed, smacking her butt lightly. "Told you."

"Yeah, yeah," Elena snickered. "You know me too well."

"No such thing."

She smiled at that compliment, staring into the bright blue eyes of her husband. She was married to Damon Salvatore and it still seemed unreal. Damon Salvatore was her husband. She was Damon Salvatore's wife. And they were happy. Happier than she ever thought she could be. Her whole world had come together peacefully. Her friends had accepted Damon and vice versa. Stefan was back and the brothers were going strong and she was with the man she loved, the man she would love forever.

"Just so you know," Damon rumbled, running his fingertips over her bare arms. "If you ever again suggest another man could lay his hands on you, I'll find that man and cut those hands off."

Elena buried her face in his neck, laughing. "Damon, there's no man out there who I could ever want more than I want you. Who I could ever love more than I love you. And you know that."

"I know," he rumbled, pushing her body closer to his. "But that doesn't mean other men won't put the moves on you and I hate it."

Elena propped herself up on an elbow, her now brown eyes piercing his. "Damon, do you know what it's like to walk the streets of Venice with you? Every single woman, and I mean that literally, eye-fucks the hell out of you and believe me, each and every one of them would _love_ to put more than just _the moves_ on you. You don't think I fantasize about drowning them in a canal? I do. But then I remember, you love me and I know that no matter how desperately they try, you would never betray me."

Damon smiled sweetly, kissing her nose. "Never."

"So just remember that the next time some stupid boy comes along," she sang, tugging at the strand of hair in his neck. "Just remember I'd rather die than hurt you."

Cupping her cheek, he kissed each corner of her mouth, sweetly.

Smiling, Elena jumped on her feet, stretching. "I'm going to get out of this dress and take a long, hot shower. Can you check their flight information? They should've landed by now."

He bent his head theatrically. "Your wish, my command, misses Salvatore."

_Misses Salvatore,_ she thought, smiling broadly as the hot water slithered downed her body. _Who would've thought._

* * *

"They'll be here in the morning!" Damon yelled from the other room as Elena stepped out from under the shower.

She sighed, tying her silk robe. "Can we go pick them up then? Tomorrow? I'd hate for them to have to get a cab all the way out here. Besides−"

She opened the door to her bedroom and just like that, all the words escaped her. The lights were turned off, but the room was filled with candles, the orange flames dancing on their huge bed and the pictures of their wedding, their family, their friends.

"What is this?" Elena whispered, staring at the man who was lying in their bed, only wearing a pair of pants now, his hands behind his head as he watched her closely.

"Come over here and I'll tell you," he said, patting the space on the bed beside him.

Shaking her head, Elena tiptoed between the candles and joined him on the matrass, kissing him as soon as she reached him.

"Damon Salvatore, the romantic."

"Well," he said, pulling a little box out from underneath the pillow. "It's a pretty special occasion."

"Sweetheart," she sang, shaking her head. "I thought we weren't going to do this. We said no presents. Remember, we said last year that if we were going to buy each other gifts every anniversary as immortals, we'd run out of ideas."

Damon did that eye-thing he did, rumbling, "And you bought that?"

She sighed dramatically, "No, I didn't."

Smiling, Damon watched her pull a little box of her own out from under the matrass, putting it down on his chest. "Happy twentieth anniversary, Salvatore."

"And to you, Salvatore."

Biting her lip, Elena tore the paper of the box, a box that held the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen. The chain was made of rose gold with diamonds set over the entire length and in the middle there was a locket sparkling with diamonds as well and a rose gold _E_ decorating the center.

"Damon," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's beautiful."

Those blue eyes glistening, he reached for the locket and opened it, revealing two small pictures inside. On one side of the locket was a picture of them dancing on her seventeenth birthday in the Salvatore Boarding House when she still didn't know where she stood with the oldest Salvatore, when she was still officially dating Stefan and on the other side was a picture of them dancing on their wedding, smiling, both of them absolutely sure there was nothing in this world that could possibly break them apart.

She didn't realize she was crying until Damon's thumb grazed her cheek, wiping away a single tear. Elena just smiled at him in responds. There were no words needed to express how she felt in that moment. Not between them.

"Now," Damon said, sitting up straighter. "My turn."

"OK," Elena said, nervous as he unwrapped his gift. "Just so you know, it doesn't top your gift in any way. It doesn't even match it, but I didn't know you were going to give me something so amazing, so−"

She trailed off as he took the gift out of the box.

"You're giving me my watch?" he asked, confused.

"Yes."

"I thought I lost this."

"You didn't. I took it."

He frowned. "To wrap it and give it back to me?"

Elena rolled her eyes, scooting into his side. "Just turn it over."

Damon did and when he read the inscription, his entire body glowed in that way only Elena could induce.

"_If Love is a trap,_" he read aloud, his voice filled with emotion. "_There's no one I'd rather be trapped with than with you. Happy anniversary, my love. Your Elena, forever._"

She squirmed against him. "Like I said, I didn't know you were going to give me that necklace. If I had, I would've−"

She was cut off by Damon's mouth on hers, kissing her in that sweet way that warmed Elena's heart.

"It's perfect," he whispered against her lips. "_You_ are perfect. Thank you."

Elena just kissed him, reveling in his warmth, in his touch as they changed their angle towards each other until she was on her back, underneath him.

"God," Damon sighed, staring down at her with those bright blue eyes. "You have no idea how much I love you, misses Salvatore."

Elena smiled, cupping his cheek. "However much, I can guarantee you I love you more, mister Salvatore."

"Not possible," he growled, before claiming her in every way possible.

* * *

After twenty years, Elena instinctively knew when Damon wasn't next to her in bed. Even before she'd opened her eyes, she could feel his absence in every fiber of her being. Her mind racing, her eyes snapped open, staring at the empty space beside her.

"Damon?" Elena whispered, picking her bathrobe up from where Damon had thrown it on the floor.

No responds.

Frowning, Elena opened the soundproof door and let out a sigh of relief. Sounds of cutlery and laughter streamed in, guiding her downstairs.

"−pancakes are vital," Damon said, his voice too serious for the subject. "Now, I can make them in all different shapes and sizes. Any preferences?"

Children's high pitched voices started yelling things just as Elena walked in the kitchen to find Matt and her brother and Bonnie sitting at the kitchen island while two of her three nieces were flocked around Damon who was pouring dough into a pan. Jeremy held his wife's hand as he whispered in her ear, making her laugh and Matt was checking out the plasma-tv above the fireplace. They looked happy, content and even though they were older, they still looked like they did twenty years ago. Sure, there were one or two wrinkles that hadn't been there before, but their eyes still sparkled, their smiles still lit up the room.

"Good morning, Love." Damon was the first to notice her, looking at her in that wicked way that made memories of the night before come flooding back.

The second her brother noticed her, he jumped on his feet and stalked over to her, pulling her into a bear hug.

"Hey, big sister," he whispered as Elena clutched him to her, smiling.

"Hey, baby brother."

He pulled back, sniffing. "I'm not exactly a baby anymore."

And then Bonnie's arms were around her.

"I'm glad you made it," Elena said, smiling at her best friend.

"Hey, I wasn't about to refuse a free trip to Venice."

"And neither was I," Matt jumped in before kissing her on the cheek. "This place is awesome, by the way! Have you seen your pool?"

"Yes," Elena snickered. "Once or twice. And how are my two beautiful nieces?"

The girls didn't even look away from Damon.

"Sorry, Love," Damon said, shrugging. "I'm the pancake King. You can't compete."

Laughing, Elena walked over to her husband. "You were supposed to wake me up," she whispered, kissing him good morning. "We were supposed to pick them up together."

"I know, but you looked so beautiful and I figured you needed your rest after the night we had."

She bit her lip, pointing at the kids.

"What?" Damon rumbled. "Like they know what I'm talking about."

"Their parents do," Jeremy smiled. "So, stop."

Elena snickered, hopping on the counter beside Damon. "So, how's everything back home?"

"Good," Bonnie chirped, drinking from her glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. "Jenna and Alaric send their love. They're babysitting Amelia. She's still too young for the long flight out here."

"How is my tiny niece doing?"

"Great!" Jeremy exclaimed. "I swear, she looks like you."

"Then the future generation of men better watch out," Damon rumbled, winking at Elena.

"She's the one who should watch out," Elena smiled, pinching Damon's side, earning herself another one of his famous smiles.

Above them, floorboards creaked. Not that the humans in the room noticed, but Damon and Elena could hear it clear as day.

"Okay," Damon announced, topping of the stack of pancakes with fresh berries. "Breakfast time. The late sleepers are on their way."

Bonnie had just gotten her daughters at the table when Stefan, Caroline and Tyler walked in, their eyes still sleepy.

"Full house," Stefan smiled before kissing Bonnie and shaking Matt's and Jeremy's hand.

"Hey guys!" Caroline exclaimed, throwing hugs around with Tyler right behind her. "So good to see you!"

"Pancakes!" two young voice suddenly yelled as Damon put the stack down. Everyone laughed and sat down. But not Elena. She sat on that counter, watching everyone interact, smile, laugh. Caroline was trying to stop the girls from attacking the pancakes, without success. Bonnie laughed, watching her try and Tyler, Stefan, Matt and Jeremy started catching up, loudly.

It was hectic.

It was loud.

It was perfect.

And Damon, Damon was just watching _her_. She caught his gaze in the middle of one of Tyler's booming laughs and in his eyes, she could see he was thinking the same thing she was.

Thinking about the first time they'd met.

About how they'd fallen in love. Reluctantly.

About how they'd overcome every obstacle in their path: Christian and Max, Hertz, Katherine, even Stefan and her friends.

About how every bump in the road had brought them to this point, to this kitchen where their friends and family were laughing, enjoying each other, without judgment, without prejudice. The room was filled with pure friendship and love and it was heaven.

"Hey Salvatores," Stefan rumbled, holding up his hands. "Are you two coming or what?"

Elena just laughed, and old memory of a dream pushing to the surface as Damon swept her off the counter and carried her to their seat.

As she rested in his arms, his lips against her forehead, Damon remembered how hard he'd fought against his feelings for her in the very beginning. How much he'd wished he could get her out of his head, out of his heart. And now, as he sat down with her on his lap and looked around the table, he once again realized how doing so would've ruined his life. Not only had Elena Gilbert made him a better man, not only had she saved him from a miserable, lonely existence, she'd also given him something he never thought he could have again.

A family. Not just his brother, but hers, too. And Bonnie, her nieces who he adored, Caroline, Tyler, hell, even the quarterback. They'd become his family.

And it was all thanks to her.

Laughing at something Stefan had said, Elena leaned back against him, resting her cheek against his, her hand lazily caressing his leg. Smiling, he gently took that hand and entwined their fingers, watching her lips curl up too in responds.

And that was all he needed. All he would ever need. Elena's hand in his. Elena's smile. As long as he had that, as long as he had her, everything was going to be perfect.

Forever.

* * *

**...And thus, it ends. Once again, I want to stress how much I truly loved your reviews, your PM's, your encouragement. This was the first time I ever wrote anything for an audience and to get such a responds...heartwarming. Not only did you guys inspire me to keep writing on this story, you also inspired me to start writing books again, to try again and again to put my story to paper and to not get frustrated if it takes a while. After all, I now know it takes time to create something, well, creative. And, if I do happen to ever get published, I'll be sure to acknowledge you guys :-)! **

**I hope you loved reading the story as much as I loved writing it and I'll be sure to return to try my hand at another DELENA story if the inspiration strikes me.**

**So, once more: xxxx L****ustAndLove**


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